#wouldn't stay off of her for six years

[hislittleraincloud]

This query is based on your post regarding the age of the eldest Ortega. You mentioned Isaac having a different dad, albeit maybe jokingly. But he does look different from all the other siblings. More melanin, straight pointed nose, narrow face…wonder if he does have different parentage. They’d never say though. Especially not Natalie

See, they had Mariah as teens and then waited about six years until they started breeding nonstop in April 1997.

Or did they....

Genetics are weird and sometimes you can get that random kid in your fam whose genes express like someone else's from your line but branched. Maybe he looks like Ed's uncle or cousin or something like that. It happens and yeah, I was joking but...I mean, after six years Ed was likely already on the force by the time Isaac was born.

100% they probably joke about it too ("You're adopted! LOL!" ... >_> ) but you're right, they'll never say, just as they never say how old Natalie was when she dropped Mariah. They won't talk about the problem of teen pregnancies in the Latino community because "God works in mysterious ways"/"it was God's will" and it's never about personal responsibility or human-driven desires and behavior. Latinas have the highest rate of teen pregnancies (it's ~double that of the national average, even though teen pregnancy is generally down right now). It is a cultural problem, a machismo and religious problem that has carried on throughout the centuries.

I've been meaning to talk about this subject (the subject of Latina teen pregnancy) for a while, even before I contemplated the Ortegas/Mariah. Somewhere in my drafts I have a long post about that TikTok Latina who has 3 children and she's only 17.

My father, who is Mexican mixed with a shitload of other easily traceable things (like Spanish, Greek, Italian, German, and Irish...he is a goddamn melting pot) recently yapped at me about my aunt/his sister and how they "begged her not to marry a Mexican when she was young because they'll treat you like a slave and expect you to be a baby machine" (😭😭😭😭😭 he's 82 and has no fucks to give). I'm guessing he said this because it's what my Mexican grandfather did to my grandmother, but my grandmother wasn't having any of it and only gave him two kids (father and aunt) and refused to behave like a lady (she went over to her sister's house with a bat when she heard that her sister's husband was hitting her and threatened him...mind you my grandmother was this 5 foot tall spitfire back in the 1930s).

Anyway I digress as I yap about familia here...the Ortegas have done really well for themselves after having been in that situation (as it seems, and as we can observe throughout their years since they're pretty public); with the right support, teen pregnancy isn't inherently bad. From my time listening to Aliyah yap on her Lives, she's defended teen moms and teen motherhood at least twice. I found that weird since the topic each time never even got that deep, and it was almost like it was in passing. Passionate, but in passing. What're we gonna do in any case, it's been 33 years and that misdemeanor has long passed.

One thing's for certain about them... they're a short ass family. Aliyah was measured at 5' 3" most recently. You must account for the sand and the heels here but this pic is telling about height when you use either Aliyah or Gizmo for the metric

They're miniatures LOL

and once again, Aliyah > Jenna

[mysoulspiralbound]

edit: fun fact! i tried to save this as a draft halfway through my tag rambling only to find it physically refused to save anymore tags (will probably make my own post to rant about the tragedy of these two later)

nintendo pls i just want them to be happy

[babeyun]

on the rebound ☆ p.sh [m]

synopsis: sunghoon doesn't mind babysitting for the neighborhood mothers - but he certainly doesn't mind when a certain eldest daughter is around to be taken care of, too. genre: acquaintances to ???. older!reader moment (because why not, but also it doesn't really come up.) angst, fluff, smut. this porn has plot, damnit! pairing: babysitter!park sunghoon x fem!older!reader ; mentions of heeseung x reader. word count: 6k rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: swearing, alcohol (that they don't even drink LOL) mentions of toxic relationships, rebounds, reader is only older by a year. smut warnings: oral (f. rec),MUNCH!HOON!! PUSSY EATING ENTHUSIAST HOON!!! nipple play, subtle body worship (f. rec), unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), sub!hoon x sub!reader (just trust me), creampie, subtle breeding kink, wayyy too much whining and whimpering, pet names (pretty girl, baby, etc.) listen to: lie to girls - sabrina carpenter ; number one girl - rosé ; wait - dino ; btbt - b.i, soulja boy, devita ; die for you - the weeknd. author's note: this is for all my eldest daughters out there (not me but y'all stay safe!) i whipped this up while i was procrastinating studying for finals...so apologies if it's shitty (because it is shitty.) also, i dog on heeseung SOOO bad but i promise i love him i just needed someone. this being said, happiest birthday hoonie, i love u!

You and Sunghoon weren't strangers, you wouldn't go that far.

However, there was a good reason that you weren't friends – you were never home when he was at your parents' house. You'd moved out with your boyfriend a month or so into him babysitting your menace of a sister. She was well-behaved for him, but had been an absolute tornado of a child when your mother would ask you to babysit. You were actually the one who found Sunghoon through an ad on social media, and he'd been yet another thing to add to your parents' monthly budget.

Then again, no one told them to have another kid so late in their lives. Or yours, for that matter. You were eighteen when Mina was born, and it'd been a pretty rocky five years since then. You went off to college and didn't really get to see her grow up, and she soon learned you were someone she couldn't depend on emotionally because you were rarely able to stick around outside of holidays. It pained you, but you knew you'd eventually get the time to bond with her.

And that time came very quickly after meeting Sunghoon – because your boyfriend dumped you after six months, insisting he was too busy with school to maintain a relationship. Heeseung was a graduate student, and he tutored on the side for extra cash. Your parents funded your lifestyle, so you'd never worried about anything – until Heeseung sat you down and said that the relationship was stressing him out. 

Needless to say, a week after the breakup – you moved back in with your parents and left him to figure out the rent himself. It was a calculated move, but your parents agreed that you didn't need that kind of energy in your life. It didn't stop you from remembering all the other times Heeseung dogged you – from taking continuous 'breaks' from your relationship in the three years you were together, to falling prey to temptation (read: another woman grinding on him at a bar while you were two feet away.)

And you talked about him to every person you possibly could – including now, your little sister's babysitter as he washed dishes in your parents' kitchen. The conversation hadn't started out this way, he'd actually been telling you how much Mina talked about you while you were gone.

"Anyway, that kid loves you, man." He nodded as he slid a plate onto the drying rack, and you laughed softly. "Mina was born when I was a teenager. She just thinks I'm cool now, she'll go through the phase of hating me when she's older." You shrug.

"I wouldn't be so sure. She talks about you a lot, something about you playing a viobib?" His brow is arched, and you snort. "Violin. I played her the violin one time so she'd leave me alone. I'm surprised she talks to you so much, she has a hard time warming up to anyone. Even my boyfriend can't get her to talk to him."

His eyes narrowed slightly, "You have a boyfriend? Since when?" You shrug again. "Since before I met you. I guess I should say ex, though. Boyfriend is the title he prefers, but not the one he deserves. At least, not right now." You say pointedly, and his brows furrowed as he leans on the counter, arms crossed.

"Elaborate." "You're babysitting my kid sister, not giving me counseling."

"Consider it a perk for eldest daughters who act like they deserve shitty men." He says, a bite to his tone as you scrunch your nose. You sigh, nibbling your lip before rolling your eyes. "We're on-and-off. Sometimes I call it off, sometimes he does. He's in grad school and he tutors, and he said everything was stressing him out. He dumped me a bit ago, and I moved back in here. I'm surprised I haven't seen you around more."

"Right, so what about that arrangement is making you believe that you deserve this sort of behavior?" 

You peek up at him, his brows still furrowed as he awaits your answer. Your stomach tightens a bit as you blink. "I guess…I don't know, actually." "Okay, then ditch that loser." He shrugs, and you scoff. "He's not a loser. He's smart and sweet and we're just going through a rough patch." "If you have to justify his presence in your life or his treatment of you to your friends or anyone you talk about him to, then he's a loser. He sucks and he doesn't deserve to have access to you in any way." Sunghoon clasps his hands in front of himself, and you frown.

"He's nice enough." "Yeah, so is any other guy, babe. You're not gonna give just any dude a chance because he's 'nice enough,' are you?" He peers at you through his shaggy hair, and you feel your cheeks heat slightly in embarrassment. "The fact that you allow that behavior, seemingly quite often, will only make him make you his doormat. He'll do it over and over until he's sick of you, then he gets to dump you and make it seem like it was a mutual thing. You won't win in a situation like that." "It's not about winning." You mutter, grabbing a peach out of the fruit bowl in front of you. He leans back on the island, arms crossed in front of him. 

"Isn't it, though? There is always a prize and a player in a relationship. You," He taps the tip of your nose with his finger gently. "Are the prize, and he's the player. If he's not playing to win you, then he's playing to lose and wasting your time."

You stare into his eyes, not missing the way his brows jump as he leans slightly closer.

"Stop wasting your time on a shitty dude when you can do so much better. Especially if you're really as cool as Mina says. Kids don't lie about people they admire." His tone is slightly teasing, and you roll your eyes. "Mina has thrown eggs at me, I wouldn't be so sure she admires me." "I don't know, she said you're really nice to everyone. That you're funny, you can sing…dance…" Sunghoon lists a few things your sister said while you were asleep, and you feel your ears grow hot. "She also said you're the one who taught her how to do backflips, and that she wants to be like you when she grows up. I'd suggest getting that guy out of your life sooner rather than later so you can set a good example." "Did she mention him?" Your eyes snap up, and Sunghoon shrugs. "Once or twice. She said he makes you cry more often than not." You snort, shaking your head as you look down. "What does she know? She's five."

"Kids see things from an unbiased perspective, they're still learning how to be functioning humans. She associates him with you being upset, so I wouldn't be surprised if you told me that you're 'on a break' right now. I've been listening to you for five minutes and I already don't like this guy. If he cared, he'd be here. He doesn't care." "You're only saying that because it's what I need to hear." You roll your eyes as you avoid the rest of his spiel, and Sunghoon shakes his head, stealing a grape from the ones he washed for you earlier. "I'm saying that because it's the truth, and when I love, I make sure the person I love knows." "You don't even know him." You scowl, and he smirks. "Don't have to, babe. It's all over your face. You look defeated as hell when you talk about him." "Not your babe, Sunghoon." You shake your head, and he shrugs. "Could be, if you ditched that guy. I don't even know your favorite color but I can almost guarantee I'd be a better boyfriend than him."

"My favorite color is green." You mutter, and he leans closer to your face. "Anything else you wanna tell me about this guy?" "Why? You'll just be mean about it." You mumble, licking your lips when you feel his fingers tilt your chin up. He coos, "You're cute when you're defensive over a scumbag." "Stop that." You shove his hand away, and he smiles. "You need a rebound or something. All you've been able to talk about since you moved back is this guy. He sucks, babe." "Ugh, I know! Alright, I know he sucks, you don't have to rub it in." You frown, biting into the peach in your hand. "D'you know he'd never tell me I was pretty? I mean, I know I am, he didn't have to. But it would've been nice to hear every once in a damn while." You chew angrily, before hearing him laugh softly. "You have enough confidence for a man to feel like he doesn't need to tell you that. You carry yourself so well, it's honestly very sexy." You look up at him, meeting his eyes. They're calm and sincere, like he didn't just call you sexy in the middle of your kitchen while you're wearing a random t-shirt and sweatpants. "Me?" "Yeah, you. It's just us in here, Y/N." He snorts, "You seriously need to get over this guy. I don't like hearing you talk about this like you deserved it." "What do you know? You hardly know me." You know your voice sounds bitter, but it only spurs him on. "Don't need to know you super well to know you just need to feel appreciated." "Right, appreciated." You roll your eyes, tossing the half eaten peach in the trash. "Like I'm gonna find that in a rebound." "You can." He nods, making you snort. "Like who? You?" "Sure." He shrugs, and you nearly choke on your own spit. "What? Sunghoon, be serious." "I am being serious. If that's what it takes, I'm all for it." He shrugs again, like this is the most nonchalant thing ever, like he's not offering to fuck the bitterness out of you so you'll act normal again. You gawk at him, "Sunghoon, I cannot just use you like that. We hardly know each other, are you insane?" "Is it insane if I say I want you to?" He leans forward on the counter, a soft blush on his cheeks. You gape at him, his finger coming to close your mouth. "Does it matter how well we know each other? I'm sure it'll be a one time thing, and since we don't see each other often, I don't see the harm." "You want me to use you to get over my ex-boyfriend? You want to be my rebound?" You're shocked at his suggestion, he can tell as he shrugs. "You can use me anytime you want. Think about it." He winks, pushing off the island.

You feel your cheeks grow hot as he leaves the kitchen, letting you sit with your thoughts.

Sunghoon lived a mile away, in an apartment complex you helped him pick out once your parents hired him. Your mother had insisted he live in the house, but your father refuted by saying Sunghoon was a grown man, he needed his own space. You'd taken him to fill out the paperwork, and it was one of the last interactions you'd had with Sunghoon before moving out.

You sigh shakily, running your hands through your hair.

It wasn't the worst idea. You knew that Sunghoon wouldn't have offered it if he wasn't attracted to you, at least. You knew what it was like to feel desired, but something about the way Sunghoon looked at you made you feel giddy.

Maybe it was the promise of feeling something new, or the idea that you shouldn't do it – because he works for your parents. Getting involved with you could cost him his job, if anyone found out. 

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and you sigh as you reach to grab it.

Message From: Park Sunghoon (Babysitter) [8:32pm] you know where i live if you're down. [8:32pm] just let me know, gorgeous.

Fuck.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad fucking idea.

It hadn't even been a day since you and Sunghoon had the conversation in your parents' kitchen. Or rather, the awkward moment in your parents' kitchen. 

It'd been three hours. It was nearing midnight as you stood in front of the elevator, the cold December air biting at your exposed legs. You'd gone to a late dinner with your friend Aeri, and you'd be lying to yourself if you didn't admit that her encouragement is what got you into this predicament.

The elevator dings, revealing a young girl and her dog attempting to step out. You give her a soft smile, earning a nod and a have a good night as you step in. You press the button to the third floor, bouncing on your heels as the elevator starts moving. This could be the worst fuck of your life and you won't even know until after, or even during. What if it's the best fuck of your life and then you're just forced to be around him as his employer rather than a potential fuck buddy or even worse, a girlfriend? "Get it together, Y/N." You mutter to yourself, hearing the elevator ding as you reach the third floor. You step out, turning to the right and walking past three doors, before standing in front of his apartment. His doormat is that of a frat boy's – Please Don't Do Coke In Our Bathroom.

You snort, before knocking on the door softly. You hear rustling, and the lowering of a TV before the pitter-patter of dog feet. You hear him sigh as he unlocks the door, his face appearing before you as he opens it. He looks surprised.

"Y/N, what a pleasure." He speaks smoothly, and you roll your eyes. "It's cold, invite me in." You cross your arms across your chest, making him smile as he steps to the side. You walk in, shivering as you carefully step out of your heels. You squat to pet his dog, but she disappears behind his legs. You pout at him, and he just snorts. "She's shy."

"It's fucking freezing outside, Hoon." Your teeth chatter as he closes the door, taking your scarf as you hand it to him. "Well, you're barely dressed. I assume it would be cold when you're half naked." "Did you want me to wear layers and make this take ten times as long? Be serious." You huff, sliding your coat off. Granted, you'd put this dress on with the idea of going to a bar after dinner and posting thirst traps on your story for Heeseung to see and yearn for…

Which is shitty of you to appear in Sunghoon's apartment after thinking that way.

"I don't think you wore this for me, Y/N. You were at dinner with Aeri." He rolls his eyes, and you forget he also has your Instagram. "Man, just take the win. Do you wanna fuck me or not?"

He shrugs, "Do you want me to?" "You wouldn't have offered and I wouldn't have shown up if the answer to either of those questions was no." You say pointedly, and he clicks his tongue. "I guess you're right." "I usually am." You roll your eyes, making him laugh. "Here, have a seat." "What, are you gonna wine and dine me?" You tease, and he smirks, disappearing into his kitchen. "Could say that." You take a seat on his couch, looking around the apartment. He's decorated in a very Sunghoon  way – lots of black decorations and shelving on the exposed brick, an array of books on a shelf to the left of his desk and a record player. You look at his coffee table, the fashion magazines and editorials stacked high.

"You always snoop through people's things?" His voice rings behind you as he holds two glasses and a bottle of wine you're sure you've seen only in your father's reserve. You huff, "Well you leave me here to entertain myself, I'm bound to look around." "Valid. Come on." He tilts his head for you to follow him, your cheeks aflame as you do just that. He leads you down to his bedroom, a large bed with a black duvet in the middle of the room. More books, a few incense candles, a few figurines in the corner of his room. "I like what you've done with the place." "Thanks, it only took fucking forever to figure out what I wanted to do. I think the exposed brick makes for a bigger headache than those home bloggers make it out to be." 

It makes you feel at ease, how easy conversation can be with Sunghoon. He doesn't make anything feel inorganic, but he also doesn't talk more than necessary in order to get his point across.

"How long were you with that guy, anyway? Here, put this on." He holds out a pair of sweatpants, which you take with a quizzical look. "Three years. Uh, Hoon, the point is to be naked here, not put on more clothes." "Is that how it was with him? You'd just show up and strip?" He rolls his eyes, digging a shirt out of his dresser for you. You feel your cheeks warm as he hands it to you, before giving you a glance. "Was it?" "...Kind of." You look at your feet, and he sighs. "Yeah, well…I don't play that. Do you need help getting your dress off?" "Oh, yeah. Just the zipper." You turn, pulling your hair to the front. You feel his fingers graze your back, before he tugs the zipper down in one go. He snaps your bra strap playfully, "We can lose this, though." "Yah!" You swat his hand away, making him laugh as he turns away. "Do you want to watch something or just talk?" "We can watch something, whatever is fine. Just nothing scary, my room is spooky at night." You shudder as you undo your bra, folding it in your hand before tugging the shirt over your head. "Oh, do you intend on driving home after?" "Did you want me to stay?" Your words sound a bit bitter, and that only makes Sunghoon frown as he scours the selection on HBO from his bed. "Dude, the more things you say, the more scummy I realize this guy was to you. Next thing you know you'll tell me he never went down on you." You freeze, and Sunghoon gapes at you as you turn around, pulling the shirt down your torso. "Y/N, you've got to be kidding me." "No, he did a few times, I swear!" You try to defend him, but Sunghoon only scoffs out a laugh. "That's fucking insane. Like, actually insane." "Hoon, you're embarrassing me." You whine, and he only blinks. "Why would you be embarrassed that he didn't wanna eat you out? That in itself is embarrassing for him. Real men eat pussy, and they eat it with gusto." "Shut up." You cover your face with your hands as you hear him sigh. "I'm just saying. Now, come on. Either put the pants on or lie the hell down." You huff, shoving the pair of sweats on before joining him on his bed. This is normal, friends fuck all the time.

Except you and Sunghoon are not friends.

You must've spaced out, because the feeling of Sunghoon squeezing your knee makes you jolt. "What are you thinking about?" "Nothing." You lie, shaking your head. He hums, turning his attention to the random movie on the television. "You're a bad liar, you know?" "Am not." Scoffing, you turn to face him. Your knees hit his outer thigh as you turn, and he gives you a lazy smile. "You are. You were staring off into space and chewing on your cheek for like, five minutes. What's up?" You scrunch your nose, looking down at your hands as he tilts his head. "You can tell me, you know. I don't judge." "Don't you, though? I mean, I'm here after you absolutely dogged on my ex earlier." You snort, and he smiles. "I'm judging your ex, not you. Well, not right now at least. I will always dislike the fact that you think you deserved that treatment, let alone from a guy who probably couldn't even make you cum." Your eyes snap to his, shock across your face as he pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "Babe, come on." "He was nice!" You whine, and Sunghoon just laughs in disbelief. "Don't laugh! It's not funny!" Your lip is jutted out in a pout, before Sunghoon maneuvers you onto his lap. He makes you move up closer, your ass resting high on his thighs. "He really didn't make you finish?" You groan, adjusting yourself to sit comfortably. "I mean, he did a few times. Just not as often as I would've liked. I don't want to talk about him." You rub your temples, Sunghoon's hands finding home on your hips. "Okay, we don't have to. Tell me what you like." "What I like?" You repeat, and he nods. "Yeah. Like…positions. Any kinks, anything I should know to make this the best experience possible."

"...Does it matter?" Your voice is meek, and he rolls his eyes. "Yes, it matters. I want you to feel good. If you don't know, I can figure it out. You just have to trust me." You feel your chest warm at his words, and you glance at his face as he speaks again. "We can go as slow as you want, this is about you." "But what about you?" You toy with the hem of your shirt, and he smiles. "I'll enjoy myself either way, don't worry about me." His hands squeeze your hips gently as he looks down at you. "You okay?" "I'm nervous." You mumble, looking away as he coos. "Baby, you don't need to be nervous. It's just me." His hand comes to hold your jaw gently, making you face him. He squeezes your cheeks gently, making your lips pucker.

"You're so pretty." He smiles as he compliments you, making you roll your eyes in embarrassment. "Stop." "Why? You are. Pretty little thing." He's teasing you, your hands now holding onto his wrist as he inches closer. "Should I kiss you?" "Yes." Your reply is more of a breath, and he chuckles. "Seriously, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you, promise. Unless you're into that."

"Kiss me already." You groan, making him roll his eyes before closing the gap between you. His lips are soft and taste like cherry Chapstick. His hand lets go of your face, moving slightly down to the base of your neck. Your own hands move to fist his shirt as his teeth nip at your lower lip, a whimper from your throat making him move you impossibly higher on his lap. His other hand moves to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair to hold you steady as his tongue slips into your mouth. 

"You'll stay the night, right?" He pulls away from your lips, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You nod as best as you can with his hand in your hair, "Yeah. If you want me to." "I want you to." He whispers, before letting go of your hair. "Can we take this off?" He tugs at the shirt he gave you, and you move to tug it over your head. He lets you, watching the way your hair cascades down your back. His hands find home on your waist, his thumbs barely grazing the underside of your breasts as you look back at him, flinging the shirt somewhere behind you.

He doesn't say anything, only meeting your lips in a kiss. It's softer this time, but your tongue finds its way into his mouth gently. He sucks on it, hearing a low moan from you as your hips cant against his. "Sorry." 

"No, don't be." He shakes his head, pressing chaste kisses to your lips. "Use me however you want, baby. That's what I'm here for." 

"But–" "This is about you. Just let go." He meets your lips once more, kissing you deeply as his hands grip your hips tightly. He moves you against his hardening cock slowly, setting a gentle pace for you. You follow his lead, rutting against him as his hands move upward before you grab them and place them on your chest. He groans lowly into your mouth, thumbs grazing over your pebbled nipples as he drags his lips down your jaw, your soft whimpers filling the air as his teeth nip at your neck.

"S'fucking gorgeous." He murmurs against your skin, tracing his tongue down the gentle slope of your neck, a shudder running down your spine as he kisses down your chest. "Can I?" His doe eyes peer up at you though shaggy bangs, and you nod quickly. Your fingers card through his hair as his tongue flattens against your nipple as you groan.

"Feel good?" He mumbles against your skin. You only breathe out shakily as you nod, your lip bitten between your teeth as he nips and sucks his way across your chest, your nipples glistening with his spit. He scrapes his teeth against one gently, earning a guttural groan from your lips as he kisses up your chest. "Wanna taste you, angel. Can I?" Your pupils are blown as you look down at him, your fingers pushing his hair back as his hands dip below the sweatpants you're wearing. "Can I?" "Okay." Your voice is slightly raspy with lust, and he smiles softly before pressing a kiss to your lips. "We can stop anytime, just say the word." 

You nod, moving off his lap. He lays you back on his pillows, kissing your lips softly before trailing down your body. "So beautiful, baby. Can't get enough of you." He kisses down your stomach, before his teeth catch on the waistband of the sweatpants you're wearing. He bites down carefully, pulling them down your legs as you cover your face with a whine. "Something wrong?" He calls, pulling them off your ankles and flinging them to the ground.

"No." You respond weakly, and he smirks as his fingers land on your thighs, pulling you closer to him. "You're lying." "You're just hot, okay?" You peek at him through your fingers, seeing him shake his head as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your skin. You jolt as he smiles, before sinking to his stomach and spreading your legs. You hear a soft whisper of shit from his lips. "Sorry? Is something wrong?"

You try to move away, only for Sunghoon to hold your hips down. "You're fucking soaked, doll. Holy shit." 

He doesn't give you a chance to respond, opting to press his face against the sticky fabric of your ruined underwear and inhale deeply, a whine from his throat hitting your ears as he noses at the fabric. "You're so fucking hot."

You feel his tongue before you reply, the underwear a useless attempt at a barrier as he finds your clit easily. Your thighs tense around his head, his preening at the taste of you just through the fabric is enough to make him cum in his pants. "Hoon…" You mewl, your fingers tugging at his hair to get his attention. He only hums in response.

"Take them off." Your whine is loud, and he hastily pulls your underwear down your plush thighs, throwing it over his shoulder as he dives back in, tongue lapping at your wet cunt like a man starved. You're a moaning mess as his pouty lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently as he pushes your thighs open further, working two fingers inside you carefully. He groans at the way you clench around them so tightly, your walls so warm and wet as he curls them into you.

"Taste so sweet, pretty. Would never give this up, ever." He murmurs against your clit, pressing wet kisses to it. You can't even respond, your eyes screwed shut as you cant your hips against his mouth harshly. "That's it, baby. Come on, give it to me." He's whining against your pussy, latching his lips to your clit as your thighs begin to tremble.

"H-Hold my hand." You mumble, and Sunghoon immediately laces his free hand with yours. "Need you to cum on my tongue, beautiful." His fingers find that spongy spot, making your soft belly cave in as your thighs close around his head. A choked moan leaves your lips as you coat his tongue and lips in your orgasm, your body trembling beneath him as you try to push his head away from you. "S'too much, Hoonie-" "One more, baby. You can give me one more." He bullies his shoulders through your thighs, moving to hover over you. He presses his wet lips to yours, your tongue attempting to collect any taste of you off of him. He lets you deepen the kiss, his hand snaking between your legs to rub teasing circles into your clit. Your mouth falls slack, your nails digging into his bicep. "One more, baby. Wanna feel you around me." "O-Okay." 

He reaches over you to his nightstand, pulling the drawer open to find an empty box of condoms. "Fuck, wait. I think–" "Want it raw." You mumble, eyes closed as your hands run under his shirt, fingers tracing circles into his softly chiseled abdomen. His eyes are wide, his hand coming to your face, stroking it gently. "Look at me. Are you sure?"

"Positive. Want it, Hoonie. Wanna feel full." You barely open your eyes as you nod, turning your head slightly to kiss his palm. He shivers slightly, closing his eyes to compose himself as he nods. "O-Okay. Alright." He straightens, pulling his shirt over his head and quickly pushing his sweats down. You don't bother to look down, knowing in your heart the stretch will be worth a thousand viewings. He pulls you to the edge of the bed by your thighs, carefully tucking a pillow under your hips as he rests your leg on his chest. He kisses your ankle softly, before running the leaking tip of his cock through your wet folds. He nearly buckles, the warmth almost debilitating as he eased himself into you. Your mewl is so soft he almost misses it, his eyes darting to your face as he slowly sheaths himself inside you, biting his lip so hard he's sure he'll draw blood. Your lips are so swollen from the kissing and biting that he can't help but lean over and kiss you gently, burying himself to the hilt inside you. Your soft whisper of fuck is against his lips. "Move, Hoon." "You gotta give me a second, baby." He whines into your neck, making you clench around him. "Fuck, fuck don't do that." His hips jerk involuntarily, earning a choked moan from you as your nails dig into his shoulder. He straightens himself, figuring if he's going to cum fast, he'd better make it worth your while. He pulls out almost entirely, pushing your thighs to your chest as he bullies his cock back into you. Your moans are so loud he's lost in them, your chants of yes, yes, right there so overwhelming for him as he tries his hardest to stave off his own orgasm.

"Feel so fucking good, baby. Shit." He whimpers into the air, his grip on your thighs bruising as you mewl beneath him, your hands finding his wrists. "Kiss me, Hoonie. Wan' a kiss.." He leans forward, the kiss a mess of teeth and tongue as he bottoms out inside you repeatedly. His tip is bullying your sweet spot relentlessly, making you whine into his mouth. "Want you to cum in me." You whisper, and he almost stops as the words hit his ears but your nails drag down his back. "Want you to fill me up, Hoonie. Please."

"Anything you want, fuck. I'll give you anything, baby." His voice is choked as he trails his lips down your neck, feeling your cunt flutter around him in that oh-so-familiar way. "Gonna cum for me? Gonna cream all over this dick?" You only whimper in response, your teeth sinking softly into his shoulder. He feels himself spill inside you at the sensation, a deep groan from his soul as you cum right after. He doesn't stop working the two of you through it, his hips bordering the two of you into overstimulation as you claw at him.

He feels his skin sticky as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, your fingers now flat against the muscle of his back as you breathe in deeply. You shift slightly beneath him, before patting his shoulder. "I don't…I can't get up, I don't think. I can't feel my legs." You rasp, and he chuckles into your skin.

"Yeah, that's usually what's supposed to happen." He replies smugly, earning a sharp smack from your hand in the middle of his back. "Ouch! What the hell!" "I told you to stop making fun of me!" You huff, and he moves to look at you. "I'm not! Did I not just give you two mind blowing orgasms?"

"I wouldn't say mindblowing–" He rolls his eyes as he covers your mouth. "I made you cum, which was the goal. Was it not?" "No, the goal was to get over my ex." You say, muffled by the palm of his hand. He ponders a bit, before looking down at you intently. "Well, are you?" You feel your cheeks flush as you look away. "Maybe. Might need to go again, don't know. Not fully convinced." "Not fully convinced, she says." He removes his hand from your mouth as he teases you gently, and you roll your eyes. "Okay, fine. You're good, you got me." You admit tiredly, and he smiles.

"For how long?" "What?" You look up at him, and he shrugs. "How long do I have you?" You let your eyes scan his face as he looks down at you with curiosity in his eyes. You scoff, an amused tone to your voice. "You like me." "Obviously." He rolls his eyes, "Otherwise I wouldn't have offered." "You sly little minx. Luring me in here with the premise of getting me over my ex, knowing I'm on the rebound." You poke his chest, and he scoffs. "Clearly, you like me too. Or else you could've absolutely dodged my offer." "Or maybe I think you're hot and wouldn't mind seeing you outside of the cute little necklaces my sister makes you wear." You tease, and he shrugs. "I'll take what I can get. Either way, do you feel better? Less thoughts about that idiot, more good feelings?" You nod, sitting up on your elbows. "Let me take you to dinner, Hoon." He blinks at you, before glancing at the clock on his nightstand. "It's two in the morning, babe." "Not right now. Later. After you're done babysitting." You say, and he raises his brows. "Are you sure?" "I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to." Your tone is pointed, and he scoffs. "You want me so fucking bad." "In your dreams. Get off me, I'm all sticky."

He does just that, and takes the most gentle care of you. He lets you lean against him in the shower, he shampoos your hair and steals kisses when you least expect it. He changes his sheets while you try to sit comfortably in his desk chair, complaining of sore hips and thighs as he smirks to himself. "So much for a rebound, huh?" He murmurs into your hair as you snuggle into his side, making you snort. "Go to sleep, Sunghoon. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, babe."

"Not your babe, Hoon."

"Not yet."

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ staying the night at your ex-husband's house was a mistake. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. you and gojo have a daughter. oral (m. and f. recieving), satoru calls you a slut + whore, degradation mixed with praise, mocking, dacryphilia.

author's note: edit—crying bcs an irl read this and alluded to it in one of our convos pls actually kill me /hj

"hey, sweetheart," the man holding your daughter's hand says casually, as if he doesn't know how much you hate the pet name. "you took your sweet time."

a familiar scowl makes its way onto your face and you cross your arms. "satoru, will you ever stop calling me that?" you ask exasperatedly, pressing two of your fingers into your temples.

six years.

you've known satoru for six years, and you were his wife for four of them. now, after a long, painful road, you two were finally divorcées.

it's been a year since you and satoru ended things, and sure, it was hard for all of you, but life moved on. your daughter, to her delight, still gets to see her father on weekends. and unfortunately, you usually tagged along.

"mommy, can we stay for the night?" your four year old asks, looking up at you with big, shiny eyes. "please?"

you hesitate — if it were up to you, you wouldn't stay in this house, the one you once lived in any longer. "sorry, pumpkin. i think we should go. wouldn't wanna intrude on daddy's space any longer."

you hate the look on satoru's face when you refer to him in the same way your daughter does. fucking pervert.

"you two can stay as long as you want," satoru interjects smoothly. he smiles lazily, kneeling down to your daughter's height and ruffling her hair. "it's kinda late, isn't it? i'd hate for you to have to drive all the way back in the dark."

"yeah, mummy!" your daughter says, nodding along to satoru's words. "i'm tired."

you wince and ignore the smug grin on satoru's face as he stands back up with a soft grunt. "we should head home, kiddo. i bet your dad has work to do, and we have our own house."

satoru frowns slightly at the last statement, but he doesn't even consider shooting back — not in front of his daughter. "sweetheart," he says to you, voice coated in that sickeningly sweet tone that you hated, "it's late. and i don't have any work."

when satoru sees the way you scowl at him, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "you have any other reasons why you wanna leave?"

none that you need to know.

both your ex-husband and your daughter, who takes after her dad more, take your silence as grudging agreement. 

"hey, kid, d'you want to go to bed?" satoru fondly asks your daughter, ruffling her hair again. when she nods, sleepiness evident in her eyes, satoru scoops her up and carries her off to her room without looking back.

when they turn the corner into your daughter's room, you sigh and plop down on satoru's couch. your ex-husband was an infuriatingly good father, and it pissed you off. 

a couple minutes later, satoru strolls out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. 

"so, babe, you dating anyone?" satoru says conversationally as he plops down on the couch next to you. he's close enough to make you tense, but stays just out of your personal space.

"what's it to you if i am?" you mutter, ignoring the pet name. you know that if you tell him to stop, he'll just say it more, so you don't bother.

he scoffs and faces you, resting his back against the arm of the couch. "what's up your ass today?"

"fuck off, satoru."

satoru whistles and tsks at you, shaking his head. "language, sweetheart. you kiss our daughter with that mouth?" 

after a couple seconds, his expression softens and he studies your face carefully. "what's on your mind?"

and just like that, you're back to the times when the two of you were happy. back when satoru wasn't such a dipshit and actually cared about how you felt.

unfortunately, those times were over.

long over, you remind yourself as you dig your nails into the palm of your hand. "nothing you need to be concerned about," you reply. your tone is clipped, and the words come out harsher than you meant them to.

satoru doesn't seem to mind. in fact, he has a lopsided grin on his face as he scoots closer to you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes.

"you wanna fuck it out?"

his words are so unexpected that your mouth almost drops open. thankfully, it doesn't, but a couple minutes later, your legs do.

"fuckkk," you moan, tilting your head back as satoru's tongue trails a stripe up your slit. 

"keep it down, sweetheart," satoru says without looking up. "don't wan' to wake up our daughter, do ya?"

you hum in response, physically covering your mouth with one of your hands to muffle the sounds escaping the confines of your lips.

in the year that you and satoru had ended things until now, you'd slept with a couple guys. you'd even dated one or two of them, but god, none of them could use their mouth like satoru could.

satoru can't help but smile as he eats you out, pulling away momentarily to shake his head at you. "tsk, you were so mean to me earlier. and now look at you." he dips his head to nip at your clit and grins when he feels you flinch.

"i've barely even started and you're already drippin' all over my sheets," he mutters, lips brushing against your inner thigh. "fuck, takin' my tongue so good, you little slut."

"satoru, i w-wanna cum," you mewl, shuddering when his tongue re-enters your folds. "wan' you inside me."

"i already am, dummy."

you feebly attempt to swat his head in response before scowling and insisting that he knew what you meant.

satoru scoffs as he pulls himself up to face level to you. he readjusts his position over you so your back is pressed into the mattress underneath him before pressing his lips to your ear.

"let's put that mouth of yours to use, yeah?" he mumbles, slipping two fingers underneath his sweatpants' waistband and tugging him off. 

it's been years since you last fucked with satoru, and in that time you had forgotten just how pretty he was. you'd never admit it out loud, but you really didn't mind the reminder. setting into a comfortable position, you wrap your lips around his cock, relishing the way his moans get louder and louder.

you hum slightly, resisting the urge to smile when you feel satoru shake from the vibration. but god, his reaction when you run your tongue over his tip? priceless.

"fuck, baby, it's been too long since you've sucked me off. forgot how good you were- aah," he cuts himself off with a breathy moan. "fuckkk."

you briefly stop to look up at him with a cheeky smile. "you still moan like a girl, satoru."

"and you're as much of a slut for me as ever," he grumbles, reaching down and pushing your head into his painfully hard cock again. "d-don't stop, baby. feels s' good."

satoru's moans only get louder from there, until you have to be the one reminding him that your daughter's asleep two doors down.

"m' gonna cum," he whines, grabbing a handful of your hair and tangling his long fingers in it. "swallow all of it, yeah? don't waste a drop."

you nod your head obiediently, using your tongue just the way you know he's always liked to push him closer and closer to the edge until–

"fuckin' whore," satoru gasps, groaning loudly as he cums in your mouth, hips grinding against your face. "aah, missed your s-slutty tongue, baby, fuck."

"missed your girly moans," you manage to gasp before his tip hits the back of your throat, painfully so.

"shut up and swallow," satoru commands, tugging on your hair just enough to make you cry out. "yeah, who's moaning like a slut now, hmm?"

after you swallow all his cum and lick your now-swollen lips, satoru has you open your mouth so he can check. 

"good girl, looks like there's at least one thing you can do right, even if it is just sucking me off. c'mere," he mutters, pinning you down on the mattress and making the bedsprings creak loudly. "m' gonna fuck you, m'kay?"

you nod, reaching out to stroke his saliva-covered cock. "y-yes, please, satoru."

your ex-husband, who you should really not be fucking with, looks down at you with a smirk and takes your hand, bringing it up to his lips. "you look so pretty, baby. all covered in my cum, never looked hotter."

he nudges your legs apart with his knee before pushing himself into you, gritting his teeth through a smug grin when you cry out in pain. "careful, baby. wouldn't wanna wake up our daughter with your slutty moans, would ya?"

"s-satoru, hurts s' much," you whine, pawing at his chest. "you're too big, i can't-"

"you're too big, i can't," satoru mocks, rolling his eyes. "how do you think our daughter was made, baby? did the storks just drop her off?"

his next thrust is particularly harsh, and something about your pained cry almost makes him cum again on the spot. "fuck, we should do this more often," satoru cooes, reaching up and stroking your cheek. "wait, you cryin'?"

yes, you were crying. your cheeks were wet with a mixture of your tears and the remainder of his cum from earlier, and fuck, all you could think about was satoru's cock. so much for being so over him.

satoru laughs, shaking his head and slowing his pace to give you a kiss. "just when i thought you couldn't get any prettier, you gotta go and prove me wrong," he mumbles, licking his lips. "god, you're fucking beautiful."

he presses his lips to yours again, this time letting his tongue slip into your mouth. "i missed you so much, baby. i still do," he mutters in between kisses. he's controlling the pace, purposefully making each kiss's ending sudden as to not allow you to talk — only him.

"you know how many times i've jacked off to you?" satoru breaths, reaching down to grab your thighs and push you impossibly deeper into him. "you know how fuckin' much i want to put a ring on your finger?"

"satoru, i-" you try to say, but his mouth is on yours before you can finish your sentence. and a couple seconds later, more words are waterfalling out of him.

"fuck, baby, you have no idea. i fucked up, but i swear i've changed. c'mon, give me one chance, i-"

"mummy? daddy?"

you and satoru both flinch and whip your heads towards the door when you hear your daughter's voice, preparing to make up some far-fetched story to tell her besides we were fucking.

thankfully, the universe allows you two seconds to cover yours and satoru's bodies with a blanket before your daughter opens the door and pokes her head inside. "i heard noises."

you look at satoru for help making up an excuse, and thankfully he has one ready to go. 

"oh, we were just watching a movie," he lies, running a hand through his hair. "go back to bed, kiddo. we'll tuck you back in in a second, yeah?"

your daughter looks at you before looking back at satoru and nodding. 

"close the door, please!" you call as she turns to leave. when the door shuts behind her, you let out a long exhale and bury your head in satoru's chest.

and to your horror, the door opens once more.

your daughter looks at you with shiny, curious eyes. "mommy, are you and daddy back together?"

satoru saves you from having to answer that impossible question with a laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. "go back to bed, pumpkin. i'll be there to tuck you in."

ten seconds after the door shuts for what you hope is the final time, you turn and glare at satoru. "you're gonna tuck her in?"

satoru scoffs in mock disbelief, raising his eyebrows and pointedly looking you up and down. "if you wanna tuck in our four year old daughter covered in my cum, be my guest."

you nudge his arms off of you and bury your face in a pillow, groaning softly. "fuck you, satoru."

"love you too, sweetheart."

[cassidyandonlycassidy]

tornadoes aren't more important than you

tyler owens (twisters) x reader

words: 1.5k

warnings: pregnant!reader, married!reader, established relationship

“be careful, yeah?” you place your hands on tylers cheeks, tilting his head down to look you in the eye.

“i wish you could come with me.” tyler sighs, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours, his cowboy hat tipping upwards and off his head, clattering onto the hardwood.

“i know.” you miss it. the excitement, the fear, the anticipation of storm chasing. “but i don't think the baby would like me getting whipped around.”

tyler chuckles and presses his hands to your stomach, fully showing now that you've reached six months.

“im gonna be safe and im gonna be back home to you real soon.” tyler kisses you deeply, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you in close.

“uh, not to interrupt-” 

“you are interrupting, boone.” tyler looks up at him as he stands in the open doorway, trucks filling the driveway.

“we were just finishing saying goodbye.” you raise to your tiptoes and give tyler one more peck. 

“i love you.” you whisper against your husbands lips.

“i love you, baby.”

“ew.” boones nose scrunches up, still somehow not used to seeing you kiss despite being married for a year now.

“you stay safe too boone.” you point at him, watching as they head out the door and pile in the trucks.

you wave goodbye to everyone, tyler getting in last as he tips his hat he grabbed off the floor towards you, a silent promise to come back home.

you sigh as you watch them pull away, hand stroking over your belly as the trucks disappear in a cloud of dirt. “it's okay.” you whisper to the baby, but it's mostly for yourself. “daddy will be back.”

--

“hey.” you answer the phone with a smile on your face. “i watched the live stream.”

“pretty fucking cool huh?” 

“pretty cool that you let boone drive the rig.” you chuckle, knowing tyler did that specifically for you, to show you that he can let others take the lead, let them be the one to drive into the tornado.

“how's my baby doing?” tyler asks, ignoring your teasing.

“which one?” you giggle, laying a hand on your stomach. “im good, baby is kicking a lot though.”

“put me on speaker.” tyler requests. you roll your eyes but still turn the volume up and hold the speaker up to your belly.

“it's daddy.” tylers voice is half strict and half high baby voice. “you better stop giving your mama grief when im not there to help her. behave for just a bit longer, buddy.”

“i hope he listens to you.” you shake your head, bringing the phone back up. “how's the storms looking for tomorrow?”

“tracking a couple cells.” tyler confirms. “im coming home friday no matter what they look like over the weekend.”

“mhm, sure.” you roll your eyes, although you don't doubt it. now that you're pregnant, tyler is even more protective over you. he knows you can handle anything, but that doesn't mean he's going to force you to do it all on your own.

“i will. already miss that pretty face baby.” his country twang is music to your ears as you hum out.

“i miss you too. miss kissing your lips.”

“you're killing me, sugar.” tyler groans. you hear dani shouting something in the background.

“i-”

“you gotta go. i know. love you.”

“love you more, darling.”

--

you have tylers livestream on in the background as you clean the house, feeling the urge to nest and get everything prepared before you're too pregnant to do anything, and tyler certainly wouldn't let you lift a finger when hes home.

you always dreamt of a beautiful old farmhouse like this all your life, but before you could move in tyler insisted on building a proper storm shelter to keep you safe.

you unpack some of the boxes of things you bought for the baby's room, sticking to yellows and oranges to keep everything brightly colored and cohesive, in contrast to the darkening sky.

you're not right in the path of tornados, but they have been known to swing up and hit the closest town every couple years.

you know the cloudy sky is just a result of all the activity further to the west where your husband currently is.

you look back to your phone, watching for a moment as his handsome face turns to look out the window. you can see the reflection of the twister in his eyes, a mix of awe struck and fear that any man within his right mind would feel.

“god-” you look up to the ceiling. you're not the biggest believer, but growing up in the south has you always reverting to whispering a prayer. “keep my husband safe.”

--

you let out a yawn as you adjust, not knowing for sure the sound that woke you up until you hear it again, your cellphone vibrating on the nightstand.

“hello?” your voice is groggy as you answer. you didn't bother to look at the contact name, there's only one person who would be calling you at this hour. “tyler?”

“baby, get to the storm shelter right now.”

“what?” the words have you instantly awake, hopping to your feet and looking out the window of your second story bedroom. “it looks fine.”

“im- just trust me! are you going?” you can hear the nerves in tyler's voice as well as the roaring of his truck no doubt speeding down the road.

“yes.” you confirm, grabbing one of tylers sweatshirts and slipping it over your head before finding a pair of shoes. “im going down the stairs right now.”

the second you step outside, you can feel the shift in the air.

“im tracking it on the data. we reported it but they said it's not on their maps as if our equipment isn't ten years newer.”

you listen to tylers rant as you round the house to pull open the storm shelter doors. it's not a glamorous area, small and tight but completely concrete and filled with a couple boxes of supplies.

“im in the shelter, ty.” you reassure him as you close the latch. “im safe. the babys safe.”

“it's building.” tyler says, no doubt looking at the radar or getting reports fed to him from boone. “im coming home to you, ill be there in two hours. fuck it, make it an hour and a half.”

“it's wednesday.” you state, although its just after midnight so technically thursday. “you said you weren't coming home until friday.”

“that was before a torando was gonna hit you. baby, i don't want you to go through this alone when you're pregnant.”

“ill be fine.” you reassure tyler. “but if you want to come back and make sure, you're more than welcome. like i said, i miss your lips.”

“gonna give you lots of kisses to make up for being gone.”

“i won't argue with that.” your phone beeps and you pull it away from your ear to realize you're losing service. “i think we are going to disconnect soon.”

“stay on as long as you possibly can.”

you try, but your phone beeps again and the call drops out.

sitting alone in the darkness heightens your other senses, feeling the cold air sneaking in through every available crack as your ears pick up the sound of the wind roaring.

you close your eyes and press your hands against your stomach, softly singing a nursery rhyme that your mother sung to you when you were a baby, your eyes sliding closed as you fall back asleep.

--

you're startled awake suddenly as the door rips open, only for tyler to quickly enter.

“is it over?” you ask, standing up and wobbling slightly. tyler grabs your hips, holding you up and looking at you up and down, his eyes examining you. you watch the stress and fear and anxiety melt away to be replaced with softness and love.

“it's over.” he confirms, tugging you in close. 

“the house?”

“a busted window and a downed tree blocking the driveway. that's all.” tyler presses his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent.

“wasn't bad then.” you wrap your arms around his waist, enjoying the warm embrace.

“no, but i got so fucking scared knowing you were here all alone.” tyler pulls away only to help you up the stairs, hating seeing you confined to the shelter even if it is to keep you safe.

“i just… i can't do this while you're pregnant. i can't leave you here, or anywhere, alone knowing something could happen to you.”

tyler pulls his phone out of his pocket and navigates to his youtube channel, going live and waiting for a couple users to join.

he holds the camera up so he can see himself and you, his arm coming to wrap around your shoulders.

“as you folks know, my lovely wife here is pregnant with our first child. as much as i love tornado wrangling, i love my girl more. for the next six months im going to be taking a step back, but don't unsubscribe, boone is taking over to keep the excitement coming.”

he doesn't even say goodbye, simply ending the livestream, knowing one of his followers surely recorded it to spread the news around.

“ty, you didn't have to do that.”

“yes, i did.” tyler bends down to lift you up, carrying you across the threshold of your house just like he did the day you got married. “im gonna be with you throughout everything. tornados aren't more important than you.”

[ms-demeanor]

I've been following what's been going on with Belphie the kitten and his person, Greer Stothers, has just mentioned pet insurance in a tag on a post and I wanted to give an example from my life backing up why pet insurance can be a good idea and why I think it is worthwhile.

Two years ago my sister's dog had bloat while she was on vacation. The kennel he was staying at recognized symptoms and called my sister to clear them to take him to the emergency vet. My sister is very financially secure and this dog is an enormous part of her life, so she said yes with barely a moment of hesitation. That ended up being about twelve thousand dollars of emergency surgery.

Large Bastard and I got pet insurance for Tiny Bastard the same week because we realized that if someone had presented that option to us, we would have had no choice but to have Tiny Bastard put down, and we didn't want to be put in that position.

I did a lot of research about different kinds of pet insurance and different levels of coverage and annual maximums and deductibles and so on and so forth. Tiny Bastard is a senior dog, so this was going to be expensive no matter what options we went with, so I chose a moderately priced plan with a $500 annual deductible, unlimited annual coverage, that pays 80% of the bills incurred annually below the maximum. What that means is that we pay the first $500 of care totally out of pocket, after which point we are reimbursed 80% of any vet bills for care covered by the plan.

The first year we had this plan I was kind of iffy about it. It's a noticeable monthly expense and we didn't even spend the deductible in vet bills the first year. Except that a month before the policy was set to renew, Tiny Bastard got diagnosed with diabetes. We now have monthly insulin costs and syringe costs; there are tests she has to have regularly to monitor her overall condition and we need to do more frequent vet visits to track symptoms.

Suddenly the insulin alone means that the insurance is break-even within six months and the additional visits and tests are something we can afford instead of something we'd have to put on credit.

Our plan (through ManyPets) covers medication, surgery, diagnostics, medical equipment, and euthanasia and cremation. It doesn't cover pre-existing conditions, joint conditions for dogs who were signed up over a certain age, dental care, spay/neuter, vaccinations, or prescription food but honestly all of that makes me just kind of wish we'd signed her up earlier - her knee problems *would* be covered if we'd had her signed up as a puppy, and the monthly cost would have been lower if we'd signed her up then. And there are at least a few emergency vet bills that I wouldn't still be paying off on my credit card. Hell, I've probably paid more in interest on some bruising she got in a fight three years ago than I have for this policy as a whole.

I am glad that Greer is able to take care of Belphie. I am glad that my sister was able to take care of her dog. But I'm also really, really glad that for a relatively low cost, I would be able to take care of Tiny Bastard if she were catastrophically injured, or if she needed emergency surgery. I'm glad that I'm able to take care of her now with her medications and her additional vet visits.

There are a lot of people who say that pet insurance isn't worth it, especially not for young animals. But if your young animal gets very sick, or gets badly injured, or eats a hairband and needs an emergency endoscopy, then it will probably be VERY worth it. It's a risk/reward question. You feel like you're wasting money if you're paying for a policy that you never use, but honestly that just means you're lucky to have a healthy pet.

I'm lucky that Tiny Bastard was relatively healthy before I got the insurance; I'm also lucky that she was insured when she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that will need lifelong care. This enables me to provide care for her that would otherwise be financially unmanageable, and that makes the insurance *extremely worth it* from my perspective.

And Belphie is a good example of why it's a good idea to get coverage even for very young pets. Greer is recommending it because this kitten has required a tremendous amount of care during a period in his life when it's generally taken for granted that a cat will be healthy. (And Greer is not stupid for forgoing pet insurance - pet insurance is still a relatively new concept and there are lots of people who are leery of it for a number of good reasons)

So I'd say that if you've got a pet or are getting a pet it is very worthwhile to find a pet insurance plan that fits in your budget. There are a variety of plans out there and some are very inexpensive. Check coverage levels (you can even get some with wellness plans that include dental care and vaccinations) and see if there's something that works for you.

I personally don't think I'm ever going to own another pet without having pet insurance. It's ridiculous how much easier it is for me to say yes to diagnostic tests or different treatments than it was before because I know I'm going to be able to fit Tiny Bastard's care into our budget.

[dollfacefantasy]

RIGHT OFF OUR BONES ♡

pairing: vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: one year after leon inserted himself into your life, he has a special way to celebrate your anniversary. the life-changing decision that's haunted you since that night in your room.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, blood play and drinking, knife play, religious imagery

wc: 4.8k

a/n: happy halloween!! i hope you guys like this one. technically it is a part 2 to this fic, although this can be read as a stand alone since the past events are explained in it. anyways reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated as always <3

kinktober slot: vampire leon (he's special he gets his own day)

His lips landed on the knuckles of your middle and ring finger just as the clock on his wrist struck midnight. He wanted to be touching you as the day turned over. Minutes ago this night had been like any other, but now it was officially something special.

It was your anniversary.

Your eyes watched him. His features remained piercing even in the darkness of the club. The lights hit him just right where the two of you sat on the upper balcony. A beautiful array of reds glowed on his cheek. His nose and brow cast sharp shadows. You can't help but be entranced by the sight, and that fact only became more true when his eyes flitted up and looked at yours.

"One whole year, beloved."

Despite the blaring music, you heard him as though he whispered the words right in your ear. You nodded in return, not confident your own voice could carry over the drums in the same manner.

You watched him smirk. He knew what you were thinking. Not even metaphorically. He had the sixth sense of the mind. It only took him six months of your relationship to inform you of that.

One whole year. You could hardly believe it. These months had passed you by quicker than any other year in your past. Knowing Leon and letting him in had turned your life into a blur of bloody kisses and long nights. Days became fleeting, just intervals of time you had to endure between his visits.

The version of you who had been sleeping peacefully in her bed the night he first snuck in never would have envisioned this becoming her reality. You couldn't have imagined Leon, who'd been nothing more than a faceless form in the background to you, would sink his fangs so deep into every facet of your being.

You'd been scared of him at first, then thrilled, captivated by the danger he brought. That stayed true for a while, and it still might be true today. You love him now though, so it's harder to pinpoint. The fear has become muddled with the devotion and adoration, the worship and the reverence.

"Are you ready to see your surprise?" he asked, cutting into your thoughts.

You nodded again, fingers clasping around his icy palm as he rose to his feet. He pulled you to your own before guiding you through the gatherings of people on the way to the stairs. The song playing reverberated through the metal of the suspended walkway. The lyrics about holding you close and tearing you apart wrapped around each part of you and sunk through your skin.

Leon had been teasing you with this surprise for the past week. He wouldn't give you a clue as to what it was beyond the fact that it was for your anniversary.

He traversed the stairs in front of you. Not a hair on his head moved with the motion. It stayed slick back in place. When you reached the bottom, his grip on your hand remained just as firm. There were more people down there. More eyes catching on his presence. His alabaster skin and obsidian shirt. He didn't return any of their looks though. He walked through them as if infected with a disease, which in a sense was the case. Maybe all of these people knew that deep down but didn't have the words to articulate it.

They didn't have the knowledge that monsters were real. That life didn't have to be a straight path to death. There were ways to subvert it and prolong existence. To become an imitation of a living being. In childish terms - as your lover called it -  to become a vampire.

The two of you floated through the exit of the club and out onto the sidewalk. You could still hear the music from outside the stone walls. The song switched over into something filled with synth. The change meant nothing to you though as Leon continued tugging you in the opposite direction of his feeding ground.

Your shoulders shuddered as the cold of the night started to gloss over your bare skin. A light breeze blew over you too, swishing the crimson fabric on the skirt of your dress.

"Are you cold?" Leon asked simply.

He found your mortal needs cute. Little ways he could take care of you and show that he had your best interest in mind. Small methods of building your dependence on him.

"A little bit," you answered as he'd expected.

Nodding in acknowledgement, he released your hand and draped his arm over your shoulders instead. He pulled you close, tucking you to his side. It didn't help much in terms of physical warmth given that he didn't emit any, but the gesture unleashed a swarm of butterflies in your belly that carried the heat of affection up into your chest and shoulders.

Smile now on your face, you turned to look at him.

"So... Do I get to know where we're going?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your tone.

He returned the gaze by looking over at you.

"Have some patience. You've been waiting an entire year for this. I think you can last a few minutes more."

His familiar smirk curled his lips into a picture of smug superiority. There was nothing Leon enjoyed more than being able to have a hold on you. To know something you didn't. It made him feel like your keeper. The one who could guide you through this world and into any others.

"Not even a hint?" you teased.

"Not one," he confirmed. Leaning in, he gave you a quick peck on the lips as a reward for your expected patience.

You only had to walk a handful more blocks before your destination came into view. The ground beneath your heels softened, transitioning from solid concrete to loose dirt. Decaying grass lined the walkway to the iron gates. Lights from the city streets faded into the distance, bringing a different kind of chill over you. The thrill of isolation surrounded you even though you were with someone else. It brought the sense that it was just you two in the world right now.

'Raccoon City Cemetery' was displayed in thin letters above the gaunt points of the fencing. The gates opened with a rusty creak and shut with the same sound.

"The cemetery?" you asked, "Is this your version of romantic?"

"You'll see. I think you'll come to see it my way soon enough. Like you always do," he replied, his voice picking up a bit of a teasing lilt.

You laughed quietly as he pulled you along the rows of headstones. "Are you calling me a pushover?"

"Never, sweetheart. Only trusting. Susceptible to my persuasion. But that's how I like you."

The pair of you continued heading deeper into the fields of remains. Flowers decorated a collection of graves while others were left desolate. He pulled you into a sharp turn around a mossy one and down a few more rows. You passed one more that was cracked before he finally stopped.

He looked at you before you could even think to ask anything. His arm fell from your shoulders, and his hand landed on your waist instead. He pulled you to stand in front of him. His other arm matched the placement of his other one, both of them snaking around you and holding you flush against his chest.

You felt his chin rest on your shoulder and his lips peck your throat a few times as your eyes trained on the stone about six feet from you. It was one of the empty ones. The rock looked fresh though, not marred or weathered like some of the others. Though not a single bouquet had been left in honor of the person who lay below.

Or who was supposed to be lying below.

Your eyes caught on the lettering engraved across the hard surface. Leon Scott Kennedy. Some details sat a few inches down. His date of birth. His date of death. An inscription that said "Lived to protect. Died doing just that. Will live on in the hearts of those he saved. Rest in Peace."

Honestly, you didn't know what to say. As much time as you'd spent with Leon over the past year, his past was still pretty foreign to you. You knew he worked a high-stress government job pertaining to bioweapons, that it was how he became what he is now, and that no part of it has carried over to his 'new life.'

Whenever you were together, he was more interested in talking about you. Your problems and your feelings. Your thoughts and experiences. He would provide insight, let you know his way of viewing the world and moving about it. But he kept discussions of his own history to a minimum, staying closed off in that regard. Though in his own way, you guess this counted as opening up.

You huffed out a breathy laugh and glanced at him. "Would you say you're resting in peace?"

"With you?" he teased, "Not one day."

Your smile persisted across your features, but your eyes returned to the headstone.

"Is it real?"

"Of course it is."

"Did you actually die?"

"I think the version of me it was made for did."

You remained silent for a few moments, for no other reason than to think over what he's telling you. One of your hands drifted to his that was splayed across your tummy. You locked your warm fingers with his cold ones.

"So everyone thinks you're dead?"

"Everyone who used to know me, yes," he answered before pausing, "I've been careful. It's a lot easier to avoid people when you only go out at night."

You nodded, but you still had more questions. "What happened to you?"

"I got sick. Before I evolved. It was really bad. The person who gave me this... whatever it is, they didn't infect me the easy way. They tried to kill me," he began to explain, "I was on an assignment in Romania, investigating a group of potential bioterrorists. They were like me. My squad killed all of them. Before the last one died though, he got me. Nearly ripped out my throat, but some of the venom got in.

"It was like living in a state of death for weeks. Felt like all the blood in my body stopped. They could barely feel my heart beat. I was pale, my eyes glossy like no one was there. Until suddenly, I came back better than before. It was like everything started flowing again, ten times stronger, stampeding through my veins."

You listened to him, each word painting an image in your mind. The other sounds in the graveyard faded to nothing. Chirps of crickets, leaves rustling in the wind, far-away calls of the city all background noise as you ingested his chilling story.

"I left a note. I guess they wanted to spare the embarrassment of a suicide, so they recorded it as if the sickness took me," he finished.

"Why are you telling me this?" you asked finally.

"Because I want you to know what you're getting into before I ask you to decide."

Your heart seizes in your chest, locking up with the implication of those words. So this was the surprise. The decision. The choice you'd asked about a year ago. The one he deemed you unfit for at the time. Internally, you wondered what changed.

"Decide if I want to be... like you?" you checked.

He nodded, his fingers stroking back and forth over the red cloth around your waist.

"I want you to think about it," he whispers, "You have to understand that if you make the change. There's no going back."

Stepping away from you, he walked around to stand in front. The moonlight shone down on his back, drowning him in shadows to your eyes. He stood above where his corpse was supposed to be lying in eternal rest.

Your heart pumped in the same steady rhythm but hard. You knew he could hear it. He reached out, grabbing one of your arms by the elbow. His fingers trailed down to your wrist.

"You'll still be mine either way, darling," he said. His striking eyes locked with yours. Even in the darkness, they stood out like prized jewels.

You still remained silent, mulling over the decision in your mind. It probably wasn't one you should make in such a short span of time given that it would change the rest of your life. On one hand, you could be like him. You could live forever. You could feed off the flesh of others, living solely during the nocturnal hours. Or you could maintain the status quo. Continue being his little mortal that he watched over and fed from on occasion.

What Leon didn't tell you was that it wasn't really a decision. At least not yours. An answer indicating you didn't want to change would suffice for now but not forever. You were his little human. His mate. He wouldn't live in a world without you. If he had to wait a while longer for you to be ready, so be it, but one day, you would be his in every sense.

Luckily for him though, you seem to already be swaying in his favor.

You stepped towards him. The soft dirt molded to the print of your shoe. "But if I change, won't things be different? Like between us?" you asked.

He couldn't help the smile that rose to his face. You always phrased things in the sweetest way. He found everything about it absolutely adorable. From your naive cadence to your shimmery doe eyes. His hand rose to cup your cheek, his thumb swiping back and forth over the soft expanse.

"Things would be different, yeah. But different doesn't mean all bad," he said.

He pulled you in closer by the back of your head. His muscular arm guided you in so your front was flush against his, those wondrous eyes gazing up at his face.

"I won't lie to you, at first things will be hard. This thing... it can feel like a curse," he murmured, "The taste of blood takes a while to get used to. The feeling of your prey going limp in your arms... it's a thrill like you can't even imagine. So horrific but satisfying."

The whispered words brought a chill over you stronger than the one inflicted by the night air. Staring into his eyes almost felt as if you were hypnotizing yourself, locking your mind into the trance of a predator you wouldn't be able to escape.

"But it can also be a gift," he continued, "You wouldn't have to worry about meaningless mortal worries. Wouldn't have to fear the idea of aging into irrelevancy."

He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. Already, you feel the urge to give in. Leon was nothing if not enticing, and the idea of being with him forever... it didn't sound so bad.

"How do you do it?" you finally asked.

His eyes gleamed with excitement at your wavering resolve. He pecked your lips, then the corner of your mouth, then your jaw. His mouth landed on your neck near your ear, just above the two faint markings that came from him sinking his fangs into you every so often.

"It'll be quick and painless, angel. Just a little bit of my blood should do it," he said.

You bit your lip at the thought. While his mouth latched onto your neck every other week, you'd never had the luxury of returning the favor. The image of it in your mind was sickening but exhilarating at the same time.

"If I change... will you still wanna drink from me? Will you still need me?" you wondered aloud.

"Of course, I'll need you. I'll always need you. Just not in that way after you evolve," he said and brought his face to be level with yours again, "Once you're like me, your blood will be too divine to be used only in that way. That's not to say I won't drink from you though."

Your eyes studied his face, trying to discern his meaning. He moved his mouth in and nipped at your lips.

"When you're like me, I'll drink from you for fun. Pure pleasure. Not because I need it to survive, but because I rather wouldn't without the taste of you," he said.

Blood rushed throughout your body as your heart pounded faster for him. You couldn't think of any reason to say no at this point. There didn't seem to be anything in your human life that would tether you to the only world you'd known. Instead, you wanted to bind yourself to the man in front of you. Your mate.

After only a few more seconds of thought, you whispered, "I'll do it."

His lips split into a wild grin. "That's my girl. My sweet little doll."

His arms looped around your figure and kept you right up against him. He kissed you without reserve now. The spoils of your decision were yours now. There was no reason to tease, no more reason to hint at things.

A delicate moan escaped your lips. You melted into the affection, resting your arms on his shoulders and shutting your eyes. The only two people in the world right now were you and him.

His hands rubbed up and down your back. They slid over your curves and massaged the tender flesh through your dress. His fingers fell to your ass, kneading the plush softness there. Following in the same direction, his lips drifted down your throat. They coasted over the pulsing of your carotid artery and onto the center where your vocal chords thrummed.

He kissed over your collar bone and the top of your chest left exposed by your dress. Your head fell back between your shoulders. The pleasure reverberating through you evaporated your thoughts into hot air between your ears. Your fingers threaded into his soft, ashy locks.

"Leon," you breathed. The word spilled from your lips like a prayer.

Straightening out, he stood up. "Be patient, baby. You should cherish these last moments you'll have, living the life you've always known."

His fingers began undoing the buttons of his dress shirt. The stiff fabric parted, revealing his alabaster chest and the chiseled definition of his abdomen. Both sides fell away. He left the garment hanging over his shoulders. He didn't bother discarding it entirely.

Next, from his pocket came what looked like a crucifix. You watched him bring the small item into view with curiosity. You tried to piece together its purpose or significance in this moment, unable to find one until his thumb pressed on a raised charm in the center and slid it downward.

A shining silver blade poked from the bottom. The point of it was sharper than any knife you'd ever seen. Each edge of the metal shimmered with the propensity to wound.

He could feel the way your eyes magnetized to the sleek surface. His cock kicked in his trousers from how entranced you appeared. Lowering to his knees, he rested a hand upon your shoulder and guided you down with him. 

He didn't go for the transformation right away. His lips found yours again, engaging you in another passionate exchange. Your breaths puffed against his face. The hot air fanned across his skin. A small reminder of the heat he'd be harnessing forever.

His hands roamed your body. They pulled up the flowy bottom of your dress, bringing it above your hips. Your skin pebbled with the new coolness.

"Leon..." you whimpered. It was different from your last calling of his name. This one held some anxiety and trepidation. Both emotions you would be mostly freed from in a matter of minutes.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he muttered.

"Just... someone could see," you said, "Shouldn't we be quick?"

He chuckled and just shook his head, not stopping lavishing you with affection. "No one is here besides us. And even if there were, you know I would hear them coming," he teased, "They wouldn't be able to stop us anyway. No one is getting between you and I right now."

You keened under his touch. It was the truth. Anyone who tried to interrupt would be quickly silenced by your lover. Without the need for worry, you let out a sigh and relaxed. You could let yourself enjoy this.

The two of you made out for a while longer, the exact amount of time lost in the flurry of touches. When your eyes felt droopy and your lips swollen and wet, he finally pulled away. You blinked at him, and he dragged his fingers down your jaw.

"You're ready. This will be nice and easy. You just do as I say," he whispered.

He leaned back onto his knees. His skin glowed under the pale moonlight. The crucifix shined brighter as he raised it. You watched in silent awe, barely able to understand the scene playing out before you.

His hand brought it to the muscle resting right above his heart. He held it there for a second before pressing it to his own skin. Your eyes were unable to pull away as the blade dug into the flesh, drawing a scarlet line over the unmarred surface. Deep red trickled from the wound.

Lifting his eyes back to you, he examined your reaction. He didn't sense much activity going on in your head, and the look on your face told him he had you hooked.

"Come here, baby," he whispered, cupping the back of your head, "Take a drink. As much as you can."

Slowly, he pulled you in. He directed you to his chest and positioned your head right where the cut bled. Without question, your lips parted. You were unsure of how to connect with his skin at first. But once that cool, sticky liquid hit your mouth, it came like the most natural thing in the world.

They engulfed the crimson scrape. Your tongue laved at it for more. Now it was his turn to groan. His head fell back, and his cock filled out below.

"That's it," he rasped, "Nice and steady."

You suckled some more, your efforts rewarded with a thick stream flowing into your mouth. It was divine. Like a waterfall straight from heaven. You whined at the taste and pressed your hips right against his thigh.

He had told you a year ago that yours was the sweetest blood he'd ever come across, but that was clearly only because he'd never tasted his own. All you could think while it oozed down your throat was that you wanted, no needed, more.

Your heart hammered so loud in your ears, you would've thought you were close to cardiac arrest. But it kept going and going until it evened out. It felt as though your body had ascended. Everything felt so intense now. The only thing that kept you grounded was nursing the blood from Leon's cut.

Eventually, he pulled on your neck. You needed a break even if you didn't understand that. His fingers curled around your throat and gently eased you off. You didn't want to, that was evident by the way you grabbed at him and resisted his hand.

"Shh, shh, shh," he cooed while lowering you back against the dirt of his grave, "You're alright. You can have some more in a little while. Just let your body adjust."

Your eyes closed again. It felt like your head was spinning. He stroked your cheek and down your neck while getting on top of you. Dropping the crucifix beside you, he parted your thighs. Every nerve ending on your body was firing away right now. He knew you'd be dripping for him.

His fingers coasted up and down the smooth flesh of your legs. He could sense the change in you already. Your scent was morphing. It would only be a matter of time until your eyes brightened and your fangs came in.

Pushing his hips forward, he ground his bulge against your core. You mewled in response. The simple touch was enough to spark a rampage of bliss within you.

"Good girl," he praised, "Such a good girl. I told you this is what you were meant for."

You nodded hazily. He knew you were registering the words, but it looked more like you were living in a dream right now rather than lucid life.

He'd seen enough to know there was nothing left to wait for. He reached down and unbuttoned his pants. Next went the zipper, and then he pulled his cock out. He tugged on his shaft, ensuring it was ready for you.

You were too caught up in the novel feelings flooding your senses to care about doing your part of the undressing, so he stepped in. His fingers hooked around the thin lace of your panties and yanked them down. They rolled in on themselves and dimpled the soft muscles of your thighs.

When your cunt was exposed to him, he saw his predictions had been true. Your folds glistened for him. The wetness sparkles under the silver light emanating from the sky.

"Pretty baby," he whispered while guiding his tip towards your entrance. 

He lined it up with your hole before nudging it in. You sucked in a gasp, trembling at the intrusion. The connection felt all-consuming. The bond between you and Leon was above you now, out of your control. You couldn't break it if you wanted to. It was eternal.

His hands grabbed your hips, giving him leverage to thrust in and out of you. Skin clapped against skin while both of you moaned in ecstasy. The otherwise quiet cemetery filled with the sounds of your passion.

He rolled himself into you, sheathing his length in the tight embrace of your walls. You clamped around him. Every rock of his pelvis got you to squeeze on him. He panted with the restraint it took not to just pound you into the ground.

Your arms reached up, and your hands grabbed for him. Your fingers flexed as you tried to get him closer. He lowered himself, allowing you to drag him the rest of the way. Your scarlet-stained mouth kissed his lips with the same dedication you'd had for drinking his blood.

He groaned and returned the kisses. Saliva smeared over his chin. Your efforts were a bit cloudy from the lusty fog in your head. His name leaked from your mouth again. And again. And then again. As if it was the only word you knew. The only word you found worth knowing.

"Mhm. I'm right here, beloved. I'm here with you," he breathed.

"Forever," you whimpered.

Your forearm rested over the back of his neck, bobbling around with each jolt of his body. Your fingers lazily toyed with the ends of his hair. The strands felt like silk between your digits. He gazed into your eyes. Already, he could see your irises shifting to a stronger color.

"My beautiful little love. There's nothing more I could want. Just you with me till the rest of the world is dead and gone," he whispered.

You moaned in response. Your head nodded frantically. You couldn't be more eager to express your agreement.

He grinned and kissed your throat more. You could feel the points of his fangs scraping over the tender area. He didn't puncture like so many times before, he merely reminded you of the idea. Because of that, you knew he was close. He always wanted to bite right around the time the coils in his stomach started to tighten and his balls started to draw up.

Grunting against your neck, he kept his hold secure on you. His abs twitched while his breaths became labored. He pumped into your pussy a few more times before a breathy moan burst from him.

"Fuck..." he sighed.

He slammed into you for a final time, draining himself into your heat. You trembled a final few humanly shudders before deflating against the ground below you. Your head tilted back, and the headstone behind came into view again. You wondered if you'd get a similar one for yourself now or if you could just disappear into the night unnoticed.

He came down from his high with his face buried in the crook of your neck, but once his breathing had evened out, he pulled back to look down at you. He brushed his thumb over your cheek once more, cherishing the sight of your tinted lips and glassy eyes.

"This is only the beginning, beloved," he whispered, "This is the dawn of the rest of your days."

He connected you in one more kiss. One last gesture of his undying affection before he would help you put yourself back together again. He could already feel your skin beginning to cool.

[rubyvhs]

who’d believe? | dean winchester

summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.

You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to. 

"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.

The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them). 

An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree. 

You should really work on saying no.

Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.

"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."

You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."

"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"

Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”

"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way. 

"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.

"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"

You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI. 

The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean. 

There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.

But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.

The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.

"Right, yes. Hi, Officer." 

She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.

"Are you fucking serious?"

You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"

"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"

"Is that not what they say anymore?"

"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way. 

You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends. 

Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.

By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.

"Look, I don't know what happened—"

"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times. 

But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.

But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.

"I'm—"

"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever. 

"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one. 

In your defense, everyone knows.

"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes. 

Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers. 

You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.

He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you." 

He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.

"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."

You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth. 

He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.

His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever. 

This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw. 

"We— Dean, can't here—" 

He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing. 

Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right." 

"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?

He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"

"Are you asking me to not stay?" 

He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance. 

"De, someone can see—"

"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."

He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over. 

"Can't believe you're here, and all for me." 

"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."

"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently. 

"Yes."

When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares. 

Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest. 

"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you." 

He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."

You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—

He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot. 

You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out. 

He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.

The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.

Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience. 

It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest. 

He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—" 

Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?" 

You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'. 

[rafesdollette]

GHOSTED — childhood best friends

x BABYDOLL!reader

SUMMARY: almost eight years of no contact after leaving obx, you run into your childhood best friend at a New Years celebration.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

AUTHORS NOTE: bombpop series yay or nay?? i'm also tired and lowkey high off the paint fumes in my room so if something doesn't make sense, look away.

WARNINGS: mention of drug and alcohol addiction, kinda angsty

You never thought you'd come back, no one did. Leaving outer banks was tough on everyone that knew you, but Rafe struggled the most. So bad, that after six months of 'keeping in touch' through texts and long video calls, he cut you out of his life.

It all happened slowly. The rush to get off calls, one word responses to texts. Then one day everything just stopped completely. No explanation ever came either, which made it all worse for you.

Rafe didn't do it to hurt you of course, he wouldn't do that to you. He just couldn't take not seeing you in person or helping you sneak out of your house at night to go walk on the beach or doing stupid stuff to piss off Sarah.

He missed you dearly, especially the small silly things like saying "over the sun" instead 'over the moon' when you were happy about something.

So he took the solution he thought was best at the time, and just disappeared. But as he grew older, the more he came to regret his decision and realized his feelings we're much deeper.

He didn't care how many people told him he was 'too young' to know what love was at that time, he loved you. And there's probably a huge part of him that still does.

So that's why he's been staying cooped up at home since he heard you were back and visiting the island. He definitely wanted to see you, but what was he even supposed to say when he did? There was a plethora of things he wanted to say but he was never good with words, so he wasn't even sure where he was supposed to start.

He knew he wouldn't be able to avoid you the whole time you were on the island but he didn't expect to see you so soon, he hadn't prepared. He probably should have figured you'd come to the gathering for new years at tannyhill, it was always your favorite part of the year.

He's positive he looks like a weirdo right now, practically hiding behind Kelce to stop you from seeing him. “Dude just go talk to her, she won't kill you.” Kelce said, trying to nudge him forward.

“Hell, she might! She's probably still pissed.” Rafe mumbles as he continues to attempt staying out of sight.

“I doubt she's still holding that grudge, Rafe.” Kelce remarked with an eye roll.

Rafe knew he was probably annoying the hell out of his friend right now, but he couldn't help it. He was scared and anxious, which was new for him. He was typically very sure of himself but he felt an immense amount of guilt for pushing you away all of those years ago.

“Well, you're spotted anyway” Kelce said, nodding towards you on the other side of the backyard, looking at Rafe as Sarah pointed towards him.

“Shit.” Rafe muttered, hesitating for a moment before awkwardly waving in your direction.

He expected you to just wave back and get back to whatever you were doing, maybe even ignore him. But you walked back over to him. fuck.

“Uh, hi...y/n” Rafe said, avoiding eye contact

“Hey, Rafe.” You respond with a slight smile. You were glad to see him, despite what he did.He's not sure why, but a little bit of his tension relived when you spoke. At least you didn't seem too upset yet.

“So uh...how have you been?” He asked hesitantly.

“I've been...okay. I graduated high school a couple of years ago and now I'm majoring in fashion design. Not much is new besides that. How about you though?” He knew you would be doing good things with your life, you always said you would.

“I've been good too, nothing new.” He lied. Well actually, it wasn't a full lie. Nothing huge was actually new with him. He was just leaving out the part about his drinking problems and drug addiction.

You could tell that he was hiding something, but you didn't press him on it. You knew he wouldn't tell you anyway. Maybe with a little more time. “You've changed.” You said softly.

He didn't respond at first, instead looking away.

“Yeah, I guess I have..you've changed too.” He said, taking in how you had grown. You honestly looked exactly how he imagined you growing up.

“It has been a while, hasn't it? Eight years, at least.” you said

He nods in agreement “Too long…” he muttered. He knew he could've reached out again at any time, so why didn't he? He honestly didn't know. He had missed you, he'd thought of you often. But something had kept him from contacting you.

You noticed his distant expression and wondered what he could be thinking about. You thought back to the day you left, the day you both promised each other to stay in touch. And that promise remained, until it just...didn't.

At first, you waited for his message. Then you hoped for a call. But as months turned to years and still no contact from him, you figured he just didn't care anymore.

“Hey, how about we go for a walk on the beach? Like we used to?” He suggests. Though it was clear it wasn't really a suggestion, more of a demand since he already started walking towards his car and expecting you to follow.

“Oh, uh sure.” you agree, walking with him as he leads you to his car.

The car ride is mostly silent besides the occasional awkward small talk and the quiet music playing on the radio.

As you both walked along the shoreline, the only sounds were the soft crashing of the waves and your footsteps in the sand. It was all so familiar, but still awkward. Neither of you knew where to even start.

The silence continued for a while longer until he spoke up, breaking the quiet. “I'm sorry” he starts in a whisper “I should've given you some sort of explanation or not have ghosted you in the first place. It wasn't at all fair to you and I just...” he sighs, running a hand down his face. Why was it so hard to put his thoughts into words?

“Rafe...” he waves a hand, cutting you off before you can utter anything else. He just needed to get this out already, he's been holding it in for way too long.

You weren't expecting an apology, at least this soon. Rafe had never been the type to admit he was wrong, you knew that. So why he was apologizing to you, the girl he hadn't seen since he was thirteen, was obscure.

“I missed you a lot, okay?” He begins again after a moment of silence. “I know I should have just waited for you to come visit.”

“I really wanted to keep in contact with you, to call you or text you or...anything, really. But every time I tried, I would freeze up. I thought keeping in touch would still be like you were here. But, it wasn't. I felt like I had to do something to deserve hearing from you. And I couldn't think of anything.” He admitted, feeling pretty pathetic about the whole thing. He never had any kind of trouble talking to people, it was something he was good at. But now he was unable to even type a simple message to you.

You could see that he was really beating himself up over the whole situation, and you didn't particularly enjoy seeing that. “It's okay, Rafe. I understand.” You said, though honestly, you don't.

“No, it's not!” he retorted, getting irritated with himself all over again. “I should've done something.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. Why hadn't he just sucked it up and sent you a stupid text years ago?

You didn't really have a way to respond to that. So you just continued walking until the silence became too heavy once more.

“Look.” Rafe sighed, stopping in his tracks and turning towards you. “I'm sorry. I've already said that multiple times, I know. But I truly am.” he mumbled, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. “I'm not sure why I'm even telling you this, but I guess I was just hoping that...maybe we could start over?” He said slowly.

Start over? What did that even entail? You were torn. You missed the friendship you both had all those years ago. And the idea of rekindling it was nice. Still, the bitterness and confusion inside made it hard to fully trust him. “How would we even do that? I haven't seen you in years, we're practically strangers now.” You state.

He was expecting a little bit of resistance, but it still stung a bit to hear it from you. “I know it's been a long time, but..” he paused, searching for the words to make you understand, “look, I miss this.” he said, waving a hand between the two of you. “I've missed you, I've missed being able to talk to you. The last what, eight years? I've just.. I've been feeling like something has been missing but I couldn't figure out what. And now I realize it's...it's you.”

[hornedstorys]

OP Shanks x Reader - the thing about age

Warnings: Age gap…, big age gap (about 14 - 17 years), nsfw, slow burn, mutual attraction, very light dirty talk, Reader falls first but Shanks falls so much harder, icky pirate men, jealousy, Shanks is protective, sex in public.

Synopsis: It's never easy to fall in love with an older man, especially when he's so burned into your mind.

He had seen you for the first time in Makino's bar. You needed a job to earn some extra money. After all, it was never a bad thing to have some money in case of an emergency. Besides, Makino was a good friend of yours and you were really happy to help her out.

He hardly noticed you at first, even when Makino introduced you to him. You seemed shy and blushed slightly. But you had noticed him. His auburn hair, the mischief in his eyes and the broad grin on his handsome face. You weren't even put off by the fact that he was missing an arm. It only aroused your curiosity.

Oh how he had made you nervous without realizing it. You fell for him first, for the handsome pirate captain. But it would remain a crush forever. Because Shanks was much older than you, and not that 'it's only six years' older, but more than twelve years. Over ten years of experience and lifetime separated you. You felt like an invisible child around him.

But one day, one little thing changed. You were serving some nasty-looking, lice-ridden pirates. Shanks was sitting at the counter and seemed to be talking to Makino. She knew about your secret crushes, of course. But instead of judging you for it, she thought it was kind of sweet. But she also told you not to get your hopes up. Not even if you were much older. Shanks traveled a lot and only came by every few months, if at all. He wasn't really settled, yet he liked to flirt far too much. One thing that made you uneasy and kind of jealous. He never flirted with you. He never even saw you.

“What can I get you guys?” you asked the group and you felt the looks they were giving you. You weren't really dressed conspicuously. Nothing suggestive. Nevertheless, these men had hunger in their eyes, like ravenous sharks. Somehow you tried to hide your discomfort. You wanted to remain professional. Makino had often told you that you didn't have to serve some customers if you felt uncomfortable.

But you were tired of being seen as a child. You were more mature than some young women your age and you wouldn't let idiots like that spoil your mood.

“How about you, darling?” one of them slurred and you clenched your jaw. “No aviable,” you mumble, glaring at the others. Maybe they would have a normal answer to your question, but of course not. One of them grabbed you roughly by the arm, causing your note and pen to fall out of your hand.

Eyes wide and heart pounding, you looked in panic at the hand on your arm. It was far too close for you. You quickly tried to tear yourself away, but the cold, greasy hand on your arm stood firm.

“Let go of me!” you hiss, your voice shaky.

“Oh come on, sweetie. Stay a little longer. When's your shift over?” one of the men slurred, tears gathering in your eyes as you continue to struggle to free yourself from his grip.

“I said let me go!” your voice grew louder and more hysterical. Just for the amusement of those vile figures sitting at the table, grinning broadly. But their smiles disappeared pretty quickly as a shadow loomed behind you.

“Didn't you hear what she said? She told you to let her go,” that voice made you shudder too. It didn't tolerate any argument. As quickly as the hand touched you, it was gone again. No one willingly messed with the red Shanks. And the men quickly fled the bar, leaving you still trembling.

Suddenly, a hand placed itself on your shoulder. You immediately flinched until you heard a familiar voice.

“Are you all right?” Shank's worried gaze was on you. You shyly held your aching arm and hesitantly looked up at him. Your eyes met his for a millisecond and you could see genuine concern in his eyes. But nothing more. You were trapped in his eyes for a short time until you suddenly startled and said “Yes”. You quickly walked past him. It was just too much and uncomfortable for you. You could still feel Shank's eyes on you.

Something had changed since then. You felt like he saw you like a sister. Shanks looked after you every time he was in the bar with his crew. You had heard that they were staying a few more days to replenish supplies and rest. Life at sea was wild and stormy, even if it did have its sunny side. So it seemed like a nice change to have a few quiet days.

“Take care of yourself while I'm gone. Promise me that (Y/n)?” you continued to stare at him and just nodded. A few hours later, his ship had disappeared over the horizon, leaving you alone with your adolescent feelings.

It was a few months before Shanks reappeared with his crew. You had celebrated your seventeenth birthday a few days ago and to your surprise, he had even brought you something.

“I heard it was your birthday,” he grinned and handed you the little box. With warm cheeks, you hesitantly accepted it.

“That wasn't necessary, Captain Shanks. You know, you hardly know me. Besides, how did you know it was my birthday?”. His gaze flicked to Makino and a light went on in your head. When you opened the wooden box, your eyes widened. It was a necklace. But not a necklace made by rich people, it looked homemade. A leather strap with a pretty stone hanging from it.

“That's really pretty, thank you Captain,” your words made him smile.

“Shall I put it on you?” he asked and you nodded nervously. He took the necklace from your hand and gently brushed your hair to the side. His rough hands felt too forbiddingly good on the skin of your neck. You quickly tried to control your thoughts. It took almost an eternity when he put it on you, but only seconds passed and the next moment he was tousling your hair with a grin and leaving. Your heart sank again. Your feelings had hardly changed over the last few months. You had missed him. A grown man, way out of your league. How could a seventeen-year-old girl have any chance with a mature adult man?

That gesture with the hair alone only showed that he only saw you as a little sister, if that. In the evening, you served the rest of the guests, wiped the tables as you often did and tidied everything up. Only the red hair pirates were still here. You rubbed your face and joined them.

“When will you finally leave this place, (Y/n)? Yasopp looked at you questioningly and you didn't know what to say at first. You sat down on one of the wooden chairs, right next to the pirates.

“I have no reason to leave. My home is here,” you explained to him and he raised an eyebrow. You had never thought about your future. Why should you? You had a bed here and a roof over your head. Warm food and Makino. She had been your family for a long time.

“What would be a reason to leave?” Shanks suddenly asked, throwing you off balance for a moment.

“Love,” it was almost more of a question than a firm answer and the whole crew stared at you for a moment. No one said a word. At first they thought you were joking, but your serious face remained. Love, something pirates never felt they had to deal with.

“Love?” Shanks asked with a furrowed brow and your cheeks started to glow again. You just nodded silently and tried not to look him in the eye.

“That's really-” Yasopp started and Ben finished his sentence, ”Corny.” Now Crew was laughing, including Shanks. You rolled your eyes and stood up. Then you turned to them and looked at them with an offended face.

“For being almost twice as old as me, you're at least as stupid,” with these words you left. The pirates' laughter died down immediately. You didn't have the nerve to deal with it. Why should you? You could never talk about such things with men. You didn't notice how Shanks shouted after you that you should stay and that he didn't mean any harm.

But you didn't want to anymore. Your heart hurt and you were too exhausted to get upset. The sun was just setting and you were walking along the beach. Your eyes fell on the sea. When would these feelings finally disappear? Lost in thought, you played with the chain around your neck.

You sat on a small rock and looked out at the dark sea. You barely noticed the shadow approaching you. Until suddenly a shoulder bumped into yours. You automatically dodged.

“Forgive me, (Y/n). I didn't mean to laugh,” Shanks explained and you clenched your jaw, trying not to cry.

“But you did,” you said curtly. You could feel Shanks getting a little restless next to you. That wasn't really his style. He usually had a big mouth and always had a grin on his lips. What was upsetting him now?

“Do you think it's so ridiculous, Shanks? Love?” Your voice unconsciously got louder and you didn't realize it yourself. Shanks looked at you with wide eyes. It was the first time you raised your voice. You were usually such a nice and quiet girl.

“N-no, I don't think so,” he began hesitantly and your gaze remained fixed on the water. He was startled to see the tears running down your cheeks. Out of reflex, he did something you hadn't expected. He wiped your wet skin with the rough pad of his thumb. Your face jerked to the side as if you were trying to escape his touch.

It was just too much. You jumped up and wanted to leave. But Shanks held you firmly by the shoulder.

“(Y/n)…” his voice broke you. You wiped your tears away and looked over your shoulder for just a moment. You could only dimly make out his face. It was all the harder for you to say the following words: “Leave me alone, Shanks.”

You left him standing on the beach. And he was wordless for the first time in his life. What had just happened? You didn't show your face again for the next few days and even when Shanks' ship left the harbor, you weren't here to say goodbye. Something Shanks would not forget as his gaze remained fixed on the mainland.

How many years had passed? Two, three, maybe even four or five? You didn't really know. It had been far too long since you had last seen Shanks. But that night stayed in your mind. You felt bad, and you still did years later. Shanks didn't know about your feelings, but you bitched at him. He didn't deserve it. How stupid you were back then, but you were also hurt.

Tired, you poured beer and were lost in thought. Makino stood next to you and prepared food for the guests. You could feel their eyes on you in the meantime.

“What do you think?” you asked her.

“He hasn't been here for a long time, has he?”

You knew exactly when she meant him. Your heart clenched. You tried to get him out of your thoughts, you tried to close your heart. It was a waste of time. This man didn't want you. But he just wouldn't disappear from your mind.

Suddenly, men's voices sounded from outside, but you thought nothing of it. You had just turned your back to the door when the men sat down. Humming, you picked up your tablet and went to the table where the men were sitting.

"So, what can I get you? I-" you faltered as you looked up and straight into the many familiar eyes. A mop of red hair caught your eye and that mischievous look that looked up just as startled as yours.

"Shanks?..." you breathed, almost dropping your tray. Had this man grown even taller? He looked so much broader and even more grown up. Was that even possible? But Shanks didn't answer you. His gaze still lingered on your figure and slowly you became uneasy. His gaze was intense, but his facial expressions didn't even come close to revealing what he was thinking.

"I can't believe it! Is that our, (Y/n)?" laughed Yasopp, snapping you out of your stupor.

"Where's our little girl gone?" Ben joined in and laughed. You blushed and Shank's gaze, which was still on you, didn't make it any better.

"No more little girl, Ben. She's a woman now!" Yasopp nudged his captain.

"Isn' it Shanks?" This question also snapped the redhead out of his thoughts and for a moment he had to think about what was being said.

"Well, yes, gentlemen. You can't disappear for years and then look stupid when things change." After these words, she bought the men an extra round of the best alcohol you had. A cheer rang through the room.

You were still standing there rooted to the spot. Was that really true? Was Shanks really sitting there in front of you and his crew? That man had a lot of nerve. You sat at the bar and watched the crew partying. You knew they would stay much longer this time. Maybe even months.

"Hello, sunshine," Shanks popped up next to you and you tried to avoid his gaze. You just didn't know how to deal with it. His eyes bored into your side profile.

"It's been a long time," he whispers, leaning in your direction. You gulped, "It sure has."

Silence reigned for a moment when suddenly, out of nowhere, you said, "I'm sorry," at the same time.

You looked at each other in surprise at first, before a gentle smile spread across his face.

"Two idiots one thought," he quipped and you rolled your eyes.

"Well I only see one idiot here," you countered and you could have sworn Ben slurred 'My girl'. Shank's eyes twinkled. "Since when do you have such a sharp tongue?" Your eyes darkened at these words.

"Since you haven't shown your face for years, Captain," you grumble and avert your eyes. A pang of guilt immediately shot through Shanks.

"Listen, (Y/n). There's been a lot going on the last few years and after that night..., I didn't really think you'd want to see us..., me..., again," he tried to explain and you sighed.

"It wasn't your fault. It just wasn't a good day back then," you breathed, licking your lips. The redhead looked at you from the side. Then his eyes brightened again and he held out his hand to you.

"Let's start over and forget the whole thing. I'm Shanks," you looked at his remaining hand with puckered eyes. But his look melted your heart and you took it with a smile. "(Y/n)."

Shanks and you had become really good friends and you hardly noticed the age difference. You were far too much on the same wavelength. His crew noticed, of course, especially when Shanks was once again vigilantly watching over you as you tended to the guests.

"Lighten up a bit, Shanks," Yasopp said, squinting over at the redhead. His eagle eyes bored into the guy who'd been looking at you for about too long.

"Yasopp's right. She's not a kid anymore, plus you're not a couple," Ben chimed in now and Shanks just puffed.

"Maybe she's not a kid anymore. But look how she gets teased," he grumbled and his crew laughed uproariously and Shanks grimaced.

"Captain, you're not jealous, are you?" Shanks immediately stiffened and his hands clenched into fists. Was he jealous? He knew very well that you were neither together nor married. But you had triggered something in him that had activated his protective mode and since you had made up, he just wanted to look out for you. But he suppressed the way his body reacted to you.

He had noticed you on the first day. Back then. But when he found out your age from Makino, he immediately recoiled. You were far too young, you could have been his daughter. He had noticed the way you stared at him. Your innocent face, with the innocent eyes that radiated a longing. But he ignored it at first. It was wrong and his stomach had twisted with all the wrong feelings.

But when he saw how that disgusting guy had touched you and the pure panic in your eyes, he couldn't help himself. He had to help you. He felt responsible for you, even though he didn't know you. You were a stranger to him, but at the same time you were so familiar. But he would have loved to break this man's neck.

He saw the struggle in your eyes when he asked you if everything was all right and his gaze lingered on the door you had fled from after you had answered him far too curtly. Until one of his comrades spoke to him.

But now, years later, you were a woman. You were of age and your entire appearance had changed. Your body had become more sculpted, just like your face. It was so much more mature, but it still looked young. Cheeky, bright eyes had looked at him and a beautiful smile. The shyness seemed to have faded, although he always found her adorable.

Yes..., maybe he was jealous. Jealous of the way men looked at you, especially the younger ones. Stupid boys who thought they could have you for one night, but you refused to go with them. You rejected every single one of them. Most of the time even with a sharp tone when they annoyed you even more.

Today was one of those days when it was particularly bad. One of the young men was annoying you and Shanks was watching with a scowl. His crew just kept shaking their heads in amusement.

"I told you I'm not interested. So let it go now," you sigh, annoyed.

"Oh come on. I'm a good match!"

"I said no!" Your voice got louder, but this guy wasn't interested. He stood up and followed you.

"Is there someone else?" he asked suddenly and you stopped abruptly. You looked at him angrily.

"None of your business!", ooh if looks could kill.

"Come on, sweetie. Who's better than me? That old bastard over there?" He pointed his finger at Shanks and now you'd had enough.

"Don't call him that!" You shoved him with all your might and he actually staggered back a few steps. The bar went completely silent. All eyes were on you. His pride hurt, the stranger picked himself up and his expression was dark. He was actually about to strike out and hit you. You braced yourself for the pain and heard Makino scream, but he didn't come.

"Damn," the young man gritted and you opened your eyes only to see Shanks had grabbed his wrist. His gaze was cold. You could see the stranger's face go pale.

You could feel the warmth he radiated. This man was a giant. His scent enveloped you and you almost felt dizzy as it invaded your mind.

"If you harm a hair on her head, I promise you'll wish you were dead," his words were pure poison. Then Shanks let go of him.

"Get out of here and never show your face again."

"Shanks, you didn't have to do that," you sighed and glared at him. "Thanks."

Shanks' gaze immediately softened when he saw you. The shock was still deep in your veins, but it would go away.

"You really should take care of yourself," he said with a sigh and you grinned cheekily and nudged his arm.

"I've got you, Captain," Shanks did start to grin at your statement. You cheeky girl, but you were so right. He would always protect you, no matter how well you took care of yourself. He would always be there for you.

"I'd have to be around you all the time for that, though," he purred sweetly and his comrades' jaws dropped open. He's flirting?

"You are all the time since you've been here anyway," you giggled and Shanks put his arm around your shoulder. His eyes sparkled.

"Come on, I'm irresistible," he teased you.

"Captain!!!" his crew yelled and you laughed out.

"You might be ancient, Shanks," you took his arm off your shoulders. He looked indignant.

"For being so old, you were quite defensive of me earlier," he countered and you blushed.

"Of course, because I'm the only one who's allowed to call you an old git," you grinned and Shanks shook his head in amusement.

Flirting was becoming commonplace. Shanks tried to break you. You flirted back, but you remained stubborn and kept him at arm's length.

"Do you believe in love at first sight - or should I come in again?" Shanks sat at the bar and looked at you with a grin. You were polishing glasses. Your eyes rolled and you shook your head.

"Sorry, I don't have my glasses on today," you said back and you could hear giggles from his crew, who were watching the whole thing with amusement.

"Wouldn't you and I look lovely as marzipan figurines on a wedding cake?" Shanks waggled his eyebrows. You cleared a glass and turned to him.

"Isn't getting married a bit late for you, Shanks?"

You heard Yasopp shoot his beer out of his mouth and nose when he heard your answer. His laughter echoed through the room. Shanks' eyebrow twitched as you called him old again. Stop seeing and calling him that. Did you really think he was old, did you really see him that way?

"Shanks?" Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he saw your questioning look.

"Have you swallowed your tongue, Captain?" you asked sweetly and he narrowed his eyes.

"No, but you're welcome to swallow something."

"Captain!!! THAT'S GOING TOO FAR!!!"

You felt yourself falter. A triumphant grin appeared on Shank's face. You lost yourself for a moment. He looked so fucking good.

"You, I don't like swallowing," you said quietly and casually and Shanks tilted his head. You avoided his gaze.

"It tastes awful," you confessed to him and you didn't notice his expression change. Something inside him tensed up, did you already have something? How else would you know or had you just heard it? A thousand images circled in his mind. Had you already had sex? With who?

He became restless inside and jealousy rose up in him.

"I mean," you clear your throat sheepishly. "That's the only experience I have", you confessed to him and Shank's eyes widened. You were still a virgin? At the same time, he had relaxed so enormously and he exhaled heavily subconsciously.

"You've never had sex before?" he asked in a whisper and you wondered how you could have started this topic. Maybe the innermost thought was to make him jealous. If only he knew you were still waiting for him.

"Yes."

"Why?""It was never the right one," you told him, giving him a weak smile. But that answer wasn't enough for Shanks.

"Who's right for you?" the question burst out of him. You sighed and shrugged your shoulders.

"I don't know," you lied and Shanks clenched his jaw. He held out hope that you meant him. That you were saying his name. But why was he getting his hopes up? You probably had no interest in him, you saw him as a best friend. And as an old man. If only he knew how much you wanted to shout his name. Wanted to tell him it was him. All this time, for years. That you were still waiting for him yourself, not having sex with other men because none of them were him. The first time you touched yourself, the first thing that rolled off your lips was his name when you came.

That evening you locked the door and were about to go home. Suddenly Shanks was standing behind you. He looked like he was waiting for you. There was a big grin on his face. You looked at him in amazement.

"Fancy a walk with the old man?" he joked, holding out his hand to you. You looked at it again hesitantly and then took it. His hand was rough and warm. You immediately felt at ease, even though it was just a small, innocent touch. The red-haired man pulled you with him and eventually you entwined your arm in his. You realized how you felt like you did back then. Like a young girl, next to her crush. Only years later.

"Shanks, I'm just kidding about the 'old man', you know that, right?" you started to say as you arrived at the beach. The last rays of sun were just setting on the horizon and it was getting dark.

"Of course."

"Liar!" you said and gently pushed him. On his lips a soft smile, giving you butterflies."Honest question, (y/n). Do you really think I'm old?" his eyes fixed on your face and you frowned. It did seem to bother him somehow.

"No," you whisper, "I don't think you're old."

"I'm almost twice your age," he countered and you shrugged your shoulders.

"So what? It's kind of just a number, isn't it? I mean..., we joke around together and talk like we're the same age, but it's just because we're on the same wavelength. I feel comfortable with you," you tried to explain and Shanks could feel his heart beating faster.

"You're comfortable with me?" you giggled and looked at him."Of course! I mean, you've looked after me so many times now and you almost ripped the guy's head off the other day. How can I not feel comfortable and safe with you?" You laugh and now Shanks has to grin even wider.

You didn't realize how dark clouds were gathering over you. It would certainly rain soon. And suddenly the first raindrops began to fall. You looked up at the sky and a few minutes later the drops multiplied. Shanks held his cloak protectively over your head and you walked close to him.

"I know a narrow cave near here," he said against the wind and you just nodded and followed him. It was already far too late to go back. You had been walking for so long that the cave was closer. But the cave was much smaller than you expected and you only just had enough room. It was far too narrow and you couldn't fit a leaf between you and Shanks. There was lightning outside and you were standing in the rock face, soaked. You tried to calm your pulse as the man's warmth was now even stronger.

"I used to fit in here better when I was younger," Shanks joked and you rolled your eyes.

"Must have been a long time, you prankster," you sighed and could feel goose bumps forming on your wet skin. Shanks had placed his hand next to your head, which made you even more uneasy. There was a silence that was almost too loud. There was hardly any light in the crevice.

Only the light of the flash flickered on and off, otherwise you could make out faint outlines of the man in front of you.He could hear your breathing, heavy and unsteady. Just like your heartbeat. It made his blood glow. Was it him that made you so nervous?"

Are you afraid of thunderstorms?" he asked and you shook your head. "No."

"(Y/n)," he began, moving slightly. You could feel his hips rubbing against yours and you almost gasped. You bit your lips quickly, but he had heard it. So it was true. You reacted like that because of him. His eyes were now slowly becoming more and more accustomed to the darkness Wet hair stuck to your face. You flinched as he suddenly wiped a wet strand from your face. His touch ignited a fire that had been there all along. But the hand didn't disappear, it stayed on your cheek.

Unconsciously, you leaned into his touch. Your one hand moved to his chest while the other carefully took his hand.

"Shanks," you whispered and you could roughly see his eyes staring at you. His warm breath came closer to you and your body squirmed under his gaze. He gasped softly as you accidentally rubbed too hard against his loins. You swallowed. He released his hand from yours and gently ran it up your collarbone, over your neck. You held your breath sharply.

Heat flooded your body and you pressed against him. You felt how wet you were getting between your legs, just being near him made you so weak for him. Your clitoris throbbed and you could feel your labia swelling.

"How wet are you for me already, (Y/n)?" he suddenly asked in a hotter voice and you swallowed hard. His breath was so close to you and you moaned softly as the tip of his nose ran over your neck. His voice was a raspy whisper.

"Shanks," you gasp softly. "We can't do this..., I-," he interrupted you as his lips almost brushed yours. Your eyes were clouded with pure lust and the rush of finally feeling the other.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this moment," he confessed and your eyes widened.

"What?" It took strength to keep your voice steady. You pressed yourself against the cold stone wall and searched his eyes. He sighed heavily.

"I always thought you didn't even know I existed, at least at first," you confessed and Shanks sighed heavily.

"I was aware of you, (Y/n). But your age scared me off and I think you know why," he whispers, his nose still buried in your neck. His soft lips brush against your heated skin.

"I tried to see you as a little sister, a friend. But I always had my eye on you and wanted you to be safe. Then when we saw each other again after years, something changed. But I always thought you saw me as an old man now," he confessed and you sighed.

"I never saw you as an old man, Shanks. You're the most beautiful man I've ever seen and since the first day I saw you I've never been able to get you out of my mind.... . I'm fascinated by you, by your experience, your looks and also your age," you confessed and you heard Shanks inhale sharply. Suddenly he opened his lips and you could feel his warm tongue, which felt almost cold on your skin. You moaned and ground your hips against him as he licked over your jugular.

"You want to know who's the right one, Shanks? It was always you..., every day I waited for you, pushed every man away from me because none of them were like you," the words just rolled off your lips and now Shanks broke away from your neck. His eyes searched yours.

"I fucking want you! All these years I've wanted you to see me, to touch me, to make me yours!" The next moment his lips crashed hard against yours and you clawed at his neck. Shank's hand moved to the back of your neck and held you in his iron grip.

You moaned when his tongue touched yours. Oh he tasted so heavenly. They whirled around eagerly, but you had to separate. Breathing heavily, your foreheads leaned against each other. His rough cheek caressed yours and his arm was now wrapped tightly around your body. And you liked it. You liked how close you were to him now.His nose brushed yours and his gaze caught yours. His eyes were dark with lust.

"Let me feel how wet you are. Just once. I have to..., no I want to know. I want to feel it." This statement made you groan. You pulled away from him as best you could.

Then you gently took his pants and let them slide into your pants. Immediately his thick fingers sank into your wet and swollen lips. He gasped darkly as he realized how wet you were, and all because of him.

"Oh (Y/n)," he bit his lips as he saw your lust-filled face. Your eyelids were half-lowered, looking up at him. Then suddenly he thrust a finger into you and your mouth fell open. Shortly after, a second one joined in.

"Shanks!" you couldn't hold back the moan any longer. The feeling of his fingers inside you was too intoxicating. You wanted to be filled by him so eagerly.

"I want you so much, (y/n). So, so much. But not now," he gasped, pressing his covered, hard cock against you. You gave him a disappointed look. But you could guess why. He had to get back to sea soon.

"Promise me you'll wait for me. I will come back, I will come back to you and then I will finally make you mine. I will then be yours forever," he kissed your cheek gently and released his fingers from you. You watched, fascinated, as he licked them clean.

"I'll wait for you, even if it takes years," you whispered and the next moment his lips were on yours again.Humming, you put the laundry basket down and hung the white sheet over the line. There was a light breeze, otherwise it was silent. Makino wasn't home and you enjoyed the time alone, partly.

It's been almost two years since you last saw Shanks. In the cave. Since then, he had been on the high seas and you had waited for him. You rejected every man. The longing almost consumed you, but the chain on your neck gave you confidence.

You heard the sound of the sea, but the sheets blocked your view. A ship gently docked at the edge of the jetty. You continued to hum your made-up song as footsteps approached. A shadow loomed behind a layer and suddenly it was pulled aside. Intense eyes gazed at the back of your head. You sensed its presence and your head tilted slightly in its direction. Your eyes met and before you could open your mouth to say anything, he rushed towards you and pressed his lips firmly to yours.

You dropped laundry as you staggered back and fell into the pile of laundry. A laugh escaped your lips as you noticed the

mess. You were allowed to do the laundry again."You took your time, Captain," you whisper against his lips.

"But you kept your promise," and the next moment you press your lips against his. He didn't take his time either and his tongue invaded your mouth. You moaned and clung to him. As if by magic, you started to take off your clothes. You didn't care if anyone could see you. You just wanted him.

His lips wandered along your neck. You buried your fingers in his red hair and savored the feeling of his closeness. Shanks' lips slid further down and you could feel his warm breath between your legs.

"Shanks," you moaned and he just grinned rakishly at you.

"Relax, sunshine. We've got all the time in the world."Out of nowhere, he suddenly pressed his mouth to your wet pussy. An overwhelming feeling came over you and you greedily pushed your pelvis towards him. As if you were his lifeblood, he licked you without pause. You could feel something tightening inside you, but just as quickly, he let go of you and you sighed in disappointment. Shanks laughed, his chin smeared with your juices and the sight of him only made you hotter.

You spread your legs before he could and it wasn't even seconds when he was between your legs. His lips greedily on yours. You could taste yourself on his lips. A moan escaped you. You were an impatient mess of emotions, frustration and desire. Quickly, Shanks penetrated you. You were so wet for him that he slid into you effortlessly.

In sync, you moaned and he began to move his hips. Your legs snaked over his hips to feel him even deeper inside you. Your panting mingled with the sound of your wet pussy nestling tightly around him. Greedy and longing for more. More of him. At last he saw you, at last you could feel his hands on your body, his lips on yours. At last you were his and he was yours.

[leyavo]

| I am my father's daughter |

💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader

PART TWO: Agreeing to let Toff check you over, you make the decision of whether not you want to stay with your dad or just take off, which would be so much easier.

TW: Hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/comfort/ some TF141 too. [Part one] [Series masterlist] 3026words

Toff lived up to her nickname, no letters dropped at the end of her words like the team your dad had around him. No she was posh, well spoken and had the accent of someone that came from old money.

The gold designer watch on her wrist and the rock of an engagement ring, also telling enough. Her fingers prodded the yellowing bruise on your rib cage, the rock dazzling under the light, blinding you each time she moved.

She doesn't fit in, too put together compared to the likes of your father. He's still wearing some sort of hat, whether its the ridiculous army bucket hat or a snug knitted fisherman one, if he's not it's stuffed in his back pocket. You're convinced he's still got the same Levi jeans, a few added scrapes and as he says, they wear well. There's an array of plaid and flannel shirts in varying colours hanging in his wardrobe, like another uniform he wears on his downtime instead of his camo gear.

Your dad had slipped that she went to some prestigious medical school before working in the military. Not that it mattered it to you, you'd see a vet if it meant they wouldn't talk to your dad.

Thankfully she made your dad wait in the hall, her office door shut as she assessed you. If you got this over with, you could leave and not have to speak of it ever again. You could just imagine him pacing the hallway, halting to greet the soldiers calling him captain and then resuming his pacing.

Being the Captain’s daughter also meant you had a shared family health plan with him. One you’d never heard of before. He did use to remind you to go for dental and medical check ups, but moving around when you were younger made it difficult. Your mother reluctant to fill out forms to sign you up to a new doctor’s surgery because she wasn’t sure if the new home was long term. Shocker, they never were.

"You won't, uh tell my dad?" You asked as you rolled the layers of clothing back down.

Toff tipped your chin up with her finger, "all patient records are confidential, even if your dad's Captain Price." She pushed her chair back wheeling it to the desk and picking up a pair of tweezers, sliding back to you.

She peered over her thick framed glasses at you, turning your face side to side inspecting the gash above your brow. The metal of the tweezer cool against your skin, she prodded the tape drawing back with a nod of satisfaction.

"Soap patched you up well," Toff said handing you a plastic cup of water and some painkillers.

"Sorry, what," you blurted out, choking on the water.

Humming Toff nodded, "he's good with light touch, probably why your dad got him to fix you up whilst you were out cold." She managed to get hold of some of your medical records, which she requested last night. No doubt your dad had called as soon as you fell asleep in the car and asked her for a favour.

You muttered a string of curse words under your breath, did the whole bloody army base know what happened last night? Toff was too busy reading your record, brows scrunching as she double clicked the mouse.

"You broke your wrist six years ago, but never had surgery," she said, turning the computer screen for you to see the x-ray. "The follow up on here, shows your bone moved during it was in a cast, but your guardian refused surgery." Her pen circling the area of the screen for you.

"We were moving and it felt fine," you shrugged, looking down at your wrist. You wondered if your dad knew about that one.

"Does it bother you now?" Toff said, returning to you and picking up your right wrist, pushing your sleeve up. "Huh, there's a lump there, does that hurt? Any regular pain? Does it restrict you from doing certain things, this is your dominant hand?" Her hazel eyes snapped up to yours as you snatched your wrist back and shoved the sleeve back down.

All of her questions spun around in your head, you hadn't even thought about the pain when there was other things to worry about.

Toff stood from her chair, palms raised as if you were going to bolt out of the room, you wanted to.

"Sorry, didn't mean to pry. Is that all you need me to take a look at?"

"Yes, thanks,” you snapped, flinging your hoody back on and zipping it up.

You're ready to bid your dad goodbye and never look back, but as you swung the door open you crashed into the back of someone else.

Soap's light touch kept you upright, you're trying not to think of him patching you up whilst you slept. The thought alone making you feel pathetic, small in his presence. Like you can't even look after yourself.

“Captain got called in,” Soap said, as if that’s supposed to mean anything to you. You’re used to him coming and going, more focused on his job than you.

More interested in his team, how he so easily referred to Soap as son. You haven’t even been there for a day and he’s found another family, leaving you to feel like a spare part. You want to hate Soap, but you don’t know him. Don’t know your dad the way they do.

The walls began to press in and you took off down the narrow corridor, your sight on the world outside. You needed fresh air, needed to catch your breath and not fall apart in front of Soap.

"Hey, woah," Soap called after you, his boots stomping as he tried to catch up. "dammit slow down would ya, like a fuckin’ greyhound."

You forced the door open with a bit too much force and they slammed against the stairs railing as you rushed down the steps.

"I am not a dog!" You spun around, jabbing his chest with your finger. The cool air swept your hair across your face, drawing a deep breath from you. You watched Soap's chest rise and fall as if he was coaching your breathing.

He tucked the curtain of hair shielding your eyes behind your ear, "feel better now?"

“I’d feel a whole lot better if you signed me out right now.” You raised your brow, wincing at the tape pulling it tight.

Soap shook his head, falling into step beside you. He waved, signalling for the guard to let you both through the gate back into the residential area “Your dad’s a good man, why don’t you give him a chance?”

“Because I’m not a soldier, he had his chance six years ago.” The three years he didn’t reach out, didn’t bother checking in on you. Only to find out he had another kid, another family.

You didn’t miss the tic of his jaw or the gulp he took. All the little signs you looked for when you said the wrong thing, you were good at noticing the change in people. Knew how even the nicest ones could change like a flick of a switch.

Soap leant down, face close to yours that you could feel his hot breath fanning the curve of your nose. “Look, if you’re only here to piss off your dad, I’ll sign you out right now. Hell I’ll even take the blame for you leaving, just don’t go asking him about six years ago.”

“Got it,” you said, voice low but good enough for him to hear. The tension in your body kept you in place, breath trembling as he backed off and started walking ahead.

You trailed after him, keeping your distance incase he turned around again. The beating of your heart drummed against your chest, palms sweating as you balled them up inside your pockets.

Why were you so pathetic when confronted? You could just hear your dad’s voice in the back of your head telling you to knee him in the groin. Take up some space so they can’t take all of yours.

Space, exactly what you needed after being stuck in house with a team of men. You slipped through the front door, not glancing at Soap as you rushed to the safety of your dad’s room.

Shutting the door, you pressed your back against the wood panel. The lock sliding into place, your body slumping to the floor and arms wrapping around your legs as you brought them into your chest.

Your small area of safety calming you. After a moment of silence, you picked yourself up and climbed under the duvet. The memory foam mattress too hard on your back that you flipped over on your stomach, closing your eyes.

-

The constant buzzing of your phone drew you out of your sleep, your eyes heavy as you squinted at the window. You don't know why your dad opened the blinds, the sun making it harder for you to focus. His half of the bed smooth and tucked underneath the mattress, not a crease in sight till you tugged the duvet.

Numb tingles danced across your upper back, you groaned into your pillow and attempted to roll your shoulder. Searing pain stopping you before you could rise from the bed.

Eying the alarm clock, you stumbled out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. You're glad the others are training this afternoon and you can sort this out yourself. It can't be that bad.

You pulled your hoody over your head, wincing at the pull of your arm stretching the skin across your shoulder blade.

Peering over your shoulder, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and your fingers pressing into the red skin. A weeping wound oozed yellow pus just right of your back below your neck. You'd forgotten about the graze, too distracted by Toff questioning your broken wrist.

You added a little more pressure and clutched the edge of the sink, black dots lining your vision. You heard the thud before you felt your body fall to the floor.

Sweat ran down your forehead, the cool tiles beneath you a welcome addition against the heat of your skin. Since when were you so hot? your breaths quickened as you tried to focus on your phone across the bathroom. Your hand aching to reach for it.

Maybe if you just rested for a little.

John couldn't wait to sit outside and have a cigar. The day had knocked him, your call in the early hours of the morning throwing him off track and his duties as a captain, a father. He hated how he got called away whilst he waited for Toff to check you over, hoping to catch you before you went on another stroll around the base to get away from his questioning.

He pulled his boots off and added them to the shoes lined up by the door, the living room and kitchen were clear. The mumbled tones of his teammates drew his attention to the hallway. He dragged a hand down his face, hoping he wouldn't have to readjust yet another bathroom schedule.

John joined the guys huddled by the closed bathroom door, looking around Soap for a clue of what the hell they were doing. "I mean we could shimmy the door open, pop it out of the frame with a bit of force," Ghost said, his calloused hand tracing the wood.

They’re all covered in sweat from their training session. Thinking they’d revert back to their bathroom schedules like normal, but they’re locked out. Only the new recruits use the communal showers.

"I don't think kickin’ the door in, is gonna make the lass feel safe." Soap said, arm shooting across the guys before they could move. The warped door's been wreaking havoc since they were assigned the house, but they haven't been bothered about taking it off and shaving it down or replacing the temperamental lock. That or wait on the long list of maintenance services.

“What the hell are you boneheads going on about?” John grumbled, their heads snapping towards him as they finally realised he was there. He glanced to the lock picking device in Ghost’s hand and the dagger wedged into the crack of the door.

“The doors locked, she was talking a second ago…” Gaz winced as the captain’s fist banged against the door shaking the whole wall.

John held his hand over his shoulder silencing them all behind him, his head titling as he tried to listen for any movement. Another knock on the door, "hey kiddo, you alright in there? If you can hear me give me something, anything."

A light tap bounced back, the tension in the captains shoulders easing at the sound.

"Can't kick the door in, there ain’t enough room in there for it to fall. Could hurt her," Gaz said, he yanked the dagger out of the door and shoved it back into Soap's hand.

"Could take the window out and go in that way." Ghost added, as if they were planning to scale a building and ambush a rogue team.

Their mumbled voices merged together in the cramped hallway.

"Window it is."

Gaz volunteered to climb through the second floor window and break the lock from the inside. John holding his breath as he waited on the other side, his chest stung at the sight of you in Gaz's arms. The ringing in his ear and the hands pushing him forwards kept him in tow behind Gaz. You were so pale, words slurred and hand dropping over his arm like a dead weight.

John was no stranger to the infirmary, he'd been sat either at someone's bedside or the unconscious one receiving aid. What he wasn't used to though, was his daughter strung up with an IV and sleeping off the medication Toff had given her.

Nurses flitted back and forth from the bed, herding John to the side as they assessed you. Gaz and Soap had gone back to the house to sleep, Ghost fixed the door and the lock and stopped by to give the captain a strong flask of coffee leaving straight after.

The constant questions, ones he didn't know since he'd never been asked before. How could he not know if you were allergic to anything or if there were any underlying health issues? It hadn't even been two days since you'd come back into his life and he didn't know you at all.

Hours had passed since Gaz had carried you through the house and to the infirmary. Your skin pale and clammy, hair sticking to your forehead. He'd never seen you like that, lost for words as he trailed after them.

The marks of another man's grasp circled your bicep, green bruise fading, but visible as you laid in the bed. John thought the split lip and gashes on your head and brow were bad, the wound on your back much worse. Couldn't understand how you carried the pain so well, as if you'd mastered putting up with it. That scared him.

He nodded to the nurse as she finished her shift, the clipboard at the end of your bed falling to the floor. He picked it up flicking through the pages and shuffling them back into the file. His hands hesitating as he read your name, Marston not Price. Was he that detached from your life that you'd dropped his last name? He'd even put his surname for you when he'd signed you into the base and you hadn't said anything when you looked at the visitor pass.

A hand smoothed across his back, chair scraping along the floor beside him. “Lucky girl, Cap. Mild case of sepsis, good that you caught on to it early and brought her in," Toff said, she leant her elbows on her knees and ducked her head to catch John's gaze.

He couldn't glance at her though, his gaze on his hand on top of yours. "You were supposed to check her over," he snarled, more angry at himself for not paying enough attention than at Toff.

"She didn't show me the wound on her back, just some bruising and the marks on her face that were visible. If I'd have known John..." Her words cut off by John's hand patting her knee.

"How she looking?"

"You caught it in the early stages, could be a few days or a week or more. She'll need to be monitored here and make sure the infection has gone. A wound like that though with the placement, would have made it difficult for her to tend to herself." Toff flicked through the medical chart, eyes flitting to the heart monitor as she walked around the bed.

John didn't want to think about you alone, isolated from people that could help and care for you. How you lacked a family and friends to lean on during those times. His mind consumed with finding whoever did this to you. Ghost had already asked him if he wanted him to look into it.

Toff hooked up another bag of IV, silently bidding him goodbye and returning to her office over the other side of the infirmary. Door ajar incase she was needed.

A twitch of your finger tapped against John's, followed by the hurried beat of the heart monitor. You whimpered in to the pillow, rapid movement fluttering under your eyelids.

“You’re okay, kid. Just relax, your old man’s right here,” he said, adjusting your pillow and smoothing your hair out of the way.

“Captain,” you slurred, lazy smile tugging your lips. You struggled to keep your eyes open, but you clutched his pointer finger like you used to as a kid.

You’d called him Captain as a kid, your mother’s doing as she used to tell you stories about daddy becoming one, one day. Playing soldiers whenever he came home and he’d always let you be the captain, your little voice commanding him to play.

"I've got you kid, you're safe."

- thank you for all your lovely comments on the first part!! :) more parts to come soon! Hope you liked it - Leya

[3eyesdivine]

Babysitter

long awaited and heavily requested.

warnings ; 18 + only, smut, foreplay, intimate and highly sexual scene, teasing, dirty talk, age gap ( 21 & 38 )

Faye had been babysitting her neighbor's kid for years, and the two had developed an unshakable connection. Her neighbor was a six-foot-three Samoan-Italian man in his late thirties who had little time for women in his life. He was a busy man who was always on the road, so Faye became someone he trusted to look over his child.

Unfortunately for Faye, she had strong feelings for the man.

He goes by the name Roman Reigns and is a professional wrestler. His physique was beautiful, breathtaking enough to halt any lady in her tracks. Aside from his long black locks and nicely trimmed facial hair, what tied it all together were his large and broad shoulders, rough and massive hands, and overall towering height. 

"I'm home!" The woman hears a deep, rich voice speak. Her head snaps up, and she notices Roman hovering over her while she played dolls with the man's child. The little girl jumps up and travels into her father's arms, where he wraps her in a strong hug.

Faye gets up, holding the dolls, and smiles at the sight.

Roman looks at the woman and holds up a finger for a quick second. "Wait right here, I'ma get her to sleep." 

Faye nods as she watches the two walk down the hall and enter the bedroom on the right. After a few minutes, the man returned. His gaze was fixed on Faye as he took off the jacket that matched the rest of his attire, and she watched him swing it over the back of the couch. 

The woman smiled and began gathering her belongings to leave, but was deterred by Roman, who placed a hand on her bag, prompting Faye to look up and gaze at the man in confusion. 

"Stay for a while, have a drink with me. Have you eaten?" He questions, taking the woman's things and placing them back onto the couch. 

Faye smiled. "Uh, no. I haven't eaten actually. I maybe had a snack or two though.” 

The big man shook his head and grabbed her hand, leading her to the kitchen. 

"Since I can't be home all the time, I prepare meals for my daughter.." He trails off, opening the refrigerator and grabbing a couple sealed containers in which contained prepared food that looked absolutely delicious. 

Faye smiles and moves next to him, watching as he took the tops off of each one. "Oh, wow. Roman, these look amazing." She complimented, looking back up at him before scooting the food away. 

Roman watched her, brows furrowing together, as his mood dipped slightly and his thoughts filled with embarrassment and puzzlement. 

"To be honest, Roman. I'm not hungry but there is something I need to tell you and get off of my chest. Can we talk in your room?" She says. The woman felt anxious as she felt she was way too young for this man, seventeen year age gap too young, to be precise. She didn't want to sever their friendship, but it was the right thing to do.

Right?

Walking into the man's room, the two sit on the edge of his bed, each holding a glass of red wine. 

Faye places her glass on her lap and keeps her eyes fixed on the ground as she begins to confess what she'd felt was like a sin. Her family would kill her if they discovered she had feelings for a man who was nearly forty years of age.

"Roman, there's no other way to say this and I know it's wrong and i'm so sorry." The young woman takes a deep breath before continuing. "I like you, a lot."

The air in the room was dense, and Faye wouldn't dare to even peek at the man.

"Have you ever been with an older man before?" He inquires. From the corner of her eye, she noticed the man stand up and take his spot in front of her. 

She felt rough hands grasp her jaw delicately, drawing her eyes away from her lap and up to the broad man standing over her with that dominant aura that suited his whole presence. Faye shook her head, and time seemed to slow down. Roman let his hand fall from her face and onto his black leather belt.

The woman felt herself getting wet as soon as she saw how easily he unbuckled his belt with one hand, having her willing to risk everything. 

"Let me show you the heaven men my age can bring you to that these young men know nothing about, doll. Hm?" He bragged, his voice sounding enticing, aided by his raspiness and an abrupt dip in octaves. 

Faye nodded, allowing the man to push her down upon the burgundy  bedding. His hands wandered her covered body, and he could feel his cock hardening and showing. The woman looked down and felt hot considering how big he was; his bulge was brutally evident, and his print was huge. 

Roman followed the woman's eyes and smiled with a deep chuckle. "You see that, ma? I bet you ain't ever had nobody fill you up like I'm bout to." 

The woman's chest heaved up and down wildly, her mind felt fuzzy, and she felt so lightheaded from delectation that she hadn't noticed she was entirely exposed from hip to feet, the man's face buried against her thighs as he left a path of kisses up to her wet cunt. 

Finally, his lips reached her lower ones, and he kissed her naked skin, spreading her pussy to kiss on her clit before opening his mouth to allow his tongue to explore her hole and taste her juices. His oral abilities demonstrated a wealth of expertise, demonstrated by the way he'd flatten his tongue here and there as he delivered long, slow licks to the way he lapped at her pussy and ate it like he'd been starving for far too long. 

"Oh! Yes, Roman, Yes!" The woman yelled and as a result was greeted by a hand slapping against her mouth in an attempt to keep her quiet. 

With his free hand, the man pushed two thick fingers into the woman's slippery entrance, finger fucking her at just the right tempo; everything he did felt almost too perfect, but the woman hadn't gotten the complete experience.

Faye felt like she was on cloud nine; she could feel her orgasm emerging  swiftly, and she knew the man was feeling it as well when she clenched around his fingers while he groaned against her pussy. Pulling his mouth away, he sped up the tempo of his fingers and grinned as the woman's back raised off of the bed, spilling her juices all over the sheets and the man's shirt. 

"Fuck, ma." He whispered, his hand moving away from her mouth and down to her thighs, spreading them apart to get a better view at how much she had come and, more importantly, the mess she made. 

Sucking her nectar off of his fingers, the man stands up and picks the woman up with ease before flipping her onto her stomach. 

He positions her on all fours, shifting her a few times until her ass was situated just as he liked it. Finally releasing his cock, the man moans in relief and strokes himself a few times before setting himself against Faye's pussy. The man slipped in slowly and gently, reaching forward and forming a ponytail of the woman's hair as he held it and drove her head back slightly. 

Faye's mouth dropped open, enjoying the painful way her pussy stretched out to fit the man's cock inside of her. It hurt so much, but it also made her even fucking wetter. This was the only form of pain she'd tolerate and deal with as the needy woman she was for him. 

"I know it hurts, baby. You're taking daddy's dick so good." He praised, slowly picking up his pace and tightening his rough grip on her hair. 

The room was warm and smelled like sex. Their bodies were sweaty, and the way the moon's dazzling light shined into the man's room and nestled upon their skin was like a work of art. 

Roman's thrusts increased in speed, striking hard and deep, as he bent down and locked his lips with the hers. The two groaned into the kiss, drool traveling down the woman's mouth, which the man quickly cleaned by licking from the bottom of her chin and back up to her mouth before engaging in a kiss more intense than the last. 

Roman's hip motions became merciless as he withdrew from Faye's lips. He pushed the woman's face into the pillows and hammered in her pretty cunt relentlessly. 

Faye couldn't keep herself quiet for the life of her, hence it was a good thing her face was buried into the soft padding beneath her head. The sensation of his dick massaging her walls, exactly like his fingers had done a few minutes prior, was too much. She was already shaking and twitching as she was coming up on her second orgasm. Her body was utterly incapable of being motionless. 

"You gon' come huh, princess?" Roman grunts, pulling his bottom lip between his perfectly straight teeth. "Gon' head, mama. Come." 

Faye's head was spinning as she came hard and soaked the man's big dick in her secretions. Shortly after, the man came, filling the woman up with his warm load. By now, the man's hair was most likely damp from perspiration, and the sheets were a deeper crimson from both bodies' sweat and the woman's two intense orgasms. 

Pulling out, Roman laid down and pulled Faye's body on top of his. 

"You're all mine now, darling. Understood?" He spoke confidently yet breathy to which the woman responded with a weak nod before drifting off into a deep slumber. 

Tags ; @headoftheetable , @wonderingfashion , @bijouxcarys , @jstarr86 (if I didn’t tag you it’s because you do not have any indication on your page of being 18 or older, sorry !)

Here’s that fic you’ve all been waiting for! I put my soul into this at this point so I hope you all enjoy, lol!

As always, requests are always open! Much love.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! Since the "Morgana wants to be allies with Emrys" au received so much support, here's a continuation of that au!

NOTE: You can find part one of this au here!

To recap, in this au, Morgana is never told that Emrys is her doom, and instead assumes that the whole "Emrys is your destiny" thing means that she needs Emrys as her ally in order to achieve her destiny and conquer Camelot. She seeks out Emrys to no avail, but Mordred reveals to her that Merlin is Emrys. She then tries to get Merlin to join her, but he refuses. So, Morgana is trying to fight Arthur for Merlin's friendship so that she can finally take Camelot for herself.

Without further ado, onto the new stuff! Arthur and Morgana first try outdoing each other in terms of physical gifts. Morgana notes how Merlin still lives in relatively poor conditions, so she sends him things like nicer clothes, magic books, and the severed heads of his enemies. Arthur, who still doesn't know about Merlin's magic, gives Merlin new chambers, new furniture, and better pay. This leads to Morgana sending him a chest full of golden coins and jewels, and Arthur has to outdo her and give Merlin an even bigger chest full of gold and as send one to his mother. Morgana has her men steal the chest while it was en route to Ealdor and send it under her name instead.

Arthur gave Merlin access to the royal gardens so that he could just grow his medicinal herbs instead of having to go all the way out into the woods, and then Morgana refurbished the castle run-down nearest Ealdor, had it decked out in all the best finery that magic could conjure, and dedicated it to Merlin.

Merlin, meanwhile, just wanted a break, but he wouldn't get one.

Eventually, Arthur and Morgana get the memo that physical gifts wouldn't work, so they switched tactics.

Morgana then tried to appeal to Merlin a different way. If he wanted Arthur so badly, then she could provide him with an even better version of Arthur! Morgana selected loyal Emrys-worshipping druids who looked and spoke similar to Arthur and sent them to Camelot to try and woo Emrys to their side.

Merlin, waking up and seeing six knock-off Arthurs standing around him: Wait a minute, I've had this sex dream before!

Arthur, barging into Merlin's room because he's late and seeing six knock-off versions of himself standing around Merlin's bed: ... ARTHUR.EXE HAS STOPPED RESPONDING

When Arthur could finally comprehend what was going on, he had the look-alikes all sent to the dungeon. He's not sure who he was more pissed off about: Morgana sending those men, or Merlin looking like he was interested in them. But Arthur couldn't stay mad at Merlin for very long, so his rage was settled on Morgana once more. But how could he outdo a stunt like that?

As Arthur was plotting his next move that night, he caught sight of Merlin sneaking around the castle. He knew that Merlin would never betray Camelot, but Merlin sneaking around right after being offered gifts by Morgana is rather suspicious. Maybe there was more to the situation that Merlin was keeping from Arthur? In any case, Arthur had to follow Merlin, if only to ease his own fears.

So, Arthur stealthily followed Merlin and witnessed him using magic to kill an assassin sent by Morgana. Arthur is shocked by the revelation that Merlin has powerful magic, but all of a sudden Morgana's crusade to lure Merlin to her side made much more sense. He now knows that if he loses Merlin, he'll be losing all of the magic that's been thanklessly protecting him for years.

So, Arthur does the only thing that he can do: repeal the magic ban. The threat of execution for his magic is the one thing that could possibly drive Merlin from his side, so Arthur would simply remove it and thus remove any reason for Merlin to ever leave Camelot. Merlin would be happier and finally feel safe in his own home, and Arthur's wouldn't lose his closest friend (and secretly the object of his affections) to his harpy of a sister. It was a win-win for Arthur!

Arthur, of course, faced staunch resistance from the council, but he was the king at the end of the day, and so the magic ban was revoked. Arthur had a whole speech to the people and a celebratory feast after the repeal of the magic ban was signed into law, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Merlin as he proudly proclaimed to his citizens that magic would no longer be persecuted in Camelot. Arthur knew that he would be late to the feast as he spent the next few hours after his speech holding a sobbing Merlin in his arms, comforting him and whispering sweet reassurances in his ear.

Morgana, upon hearing the news of Arthur's repeal of the magic ban, was furious. It was her destiny to bring magic back to the land with the mighty Emrys by her side, and her idiot brother's!

Morgana became so infuriated by this that she marched her army of sorcerers right up to the gates of Camelot and demanded that Arthur hand over Emrys, or else she would march into the land and tear him away from Arthur by force.

Morgana, yelling at the walls of Camelot: Emrys, get out here! I have hundreds of shirtless himbos with swords for you to choose from! Take your pick! You don't need Arthur!

Arthur met Morgana at the walls (after ordering Merlin to stay behind in the castle so that Morgana couldn't take him and leaving a dozen knights behind so Merlin couldn't use magic to escape and follow Arthur like the annoyingly loyal and devoted friend that he was) and tried to negotiate with her, but Morgana wouldn't budge. After a while though, Arthur had an idea.

Arthur offered Morgana the chance to return to Camelot as a noble guest and live within the castle again, granting her full access to Merlin at all times so that she could try all of her tricks to lure him over to her side. In exchange, Morgana would call off her army and send them away and NOT try to kill anyone while she was living with them. Arthur's offer stated that if she did manage to get Merlin on her side, then she could, as she said, fulfill her destiny and try to take the throne from Arthur.

Arthur's logic was that if Morgana ever did get Merlin as her ally, Arthur's reign was already over then and there. If Merlin ever willingly turned his back on Arthur, then it surely meant that Arthur was no longer fit to be king. However, Arthur was certain that that would never happen. So, to Arthur, this deal would keep Morgana in the castle and keep her from killing anyone, allowing him to try and make amends with his sister.

Morgana thought over the deal for a while. To her, while living in Camelot and not being able to kill her enemies and claim the throne while she was there would be disappointing, having unimpeded access to Emrys would make achieving her destiny much easier, and once Emrys was her ally, they could easily conquer Camelot from within. Yes, Arthur was a fool, and this deal was a straightforward plan for her to take her rightful throne!

To Arthur's surprise, Morgana accepts her deal and sends her army away, willingly entering Camelot, much to the citizens' unease. Morgana glares at him and the knights as they make their way up to the castle.

Morgana was given her old chambers back, which hadn't been touched in the time that she was gone. All of her old clothes and jewelry were still there too.

Morgana settled in very quickly, she didn't have much to bring with her anyways. She'd have to have Mordred send Aithusa over to her though, since the young dragon hadn't been with her at the gates.

For now though, it was time to get down to business: she had to get Emrys to join her cause.

Granted, that might be a bit harder than she anticipated, given that the man in question looked like he had swallowed a lemon when he saw her in the castle. Clearly, he was wary of her, but she was certain that they would grow closer, as their glorious destiny intended!

In the meanwhile, Arthur had foolishly given her a seat at his council, so that she could advise them on magical topics and affairs. She did take great pleasure in seeing the lords and knight at Arthur's round table squirm at the sight of her though.

It didn't take long for Morgana to see how useless and inept Arthur's advisors were at actually running a kingdom. Dear gods, it was a miracle anything got done at all with how much those worthless lords squabbled with each other over inane topics! And all the while, her idiot brother sat in his chair, almost falling asleep!

Morgana was about to get up and storm out of the pointless meeting, but stopped when she saw Emrys, who was standing behind Arthur holding a pitcher and looking at the soon-to-be-deposed king (such a disrespectful job for someone as powerful as Emrys!) with a disappointed frown. Wait, this cold be how Morgana wins him over!

She has to prove to Emrys that she would be a better, more efficient ruler than Arthur! Then he would side with her!

So, Morgana threw herself into outwitting Arthur's useless council and winning arguments against them, making the whole thing much more productive really. She strongarmed them into discussing topics that actually mattered and not their own personal petty squabbles.

She was so busy watched Emrys's reactions that she completely missed how Arthur's eyes lit up with joy at seeing bits and pieces of the old Morgana shine through.

From there, Morgana is slowly redeemed as she tries to prove herself to be a better ruler than Arthur. Arthur has trouble ensuring that the harvest will be plentiful enough? Morgana can use magic to make crops grow with ease! Arthur has trouble negotiating a trade treaty with a neighboring kingdom? Morgana knows how to intimidate them into making a deal favorable for Camelot! Arthur's worried about an invading army getting too close to Camelot! Morgana can blast them all away with the wave of a hand!

Slowly, the people of Camelot become less and less scared of Morgana. As she's redeemed, Merlin gets closer with her again, almost sharing the friendship that they once had. Morgana sees this as a sign that she's close to winning Emrys over, so she doubles down. Morgana gets better, Emrys grows closer, and the cycle repeats itself until Morgana finds herself looking at Arthur and doesn't feel any of that familiar dark rage under her skin that usually accompanies the sight of her brother.

Maybe... maybe she could get used to the idea of staying in Camelot indefinitely, at least until her brother got himself killed. But the world seemed to already be doing a good job of throwing Arthur into deadly situations without her, so maybe she could just sit back in Camelot and teach those idiots in the council how to actually get some work done. Yes, that sounded like a good plan.

And that's all for this au! I hope you all enjoyed it! I have a little surprised planned for my next post, so be sure to stay tuned!

Also, here's everyone who asked for this continuation! Thank you so much for your support! @kj-owl, @smileytrinity, @nannersthespellcast0r, @nalua93, @wolfnight2012, @lucifertookmyshoe, @ath99, @thisinhumanplace, @hopeaha, @lightoftheemeraldstar, @valiantkittenwitch, @adragonhoardingstories, @foursixtwonineoh-pieces-of-lego, @the-king-and-the-druidess, @jellytamalies, @keenest-of-heart

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[taesanluv3r]

nicest guy.

kim woonhak x reader

inspired by bnd's MAMA performance! the hyungs getting their baby ready for prom night! taesan's a menace and yn's dad is hard-headed, also woonhak has his license in this. lowercase intended. cuss words, kiss scene. pls ignore any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. enjoyy

wc: 3,810

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you're going to prom in that?!"

with the way jaehyun was staring at him, you'd think kim woonhak had showed up in a jersey and sweats. "what?" the young boy asks before taking in a deep gulp, an uneasy feeling sprouting up his body at the way his hyungs eyed him down. "it's not bad is it? i mean it's a suit...?" he questions, eyebrows curling into a pose of doubt. to be fair, he wasn't wrong, it was a suit...a suit that belonged to his dad way before his time, that is.

"i mean...apart from the fact that it's a billion years out of style and like- three sizes too big on you...i guess it is a suit!" taesan chuckles, prompting riwoo, who stood beside him, to do the same. "yeah! i mean i wouldn't be caught dead in that, but a suit's a suit...i guess..." the backhanded statements made the youngest boy roll his eyes, whining as he slumped down onto the couch in the boys' shared dormitory.

"hyung, what do i do? i mean in a couple hours i have to go pick the yn ln up from her house and then i'm supposed to give her the best prom experience in the world and i can't even pick the right outfit?! i mean, how do i expect her to say yes to being my girlfriend if i can't get anything right?! i'm such a loser!" the older guy's looked at the boy with sympathy, watching as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"woonhak..." sungho starts, taking a seat beside him. "don't say that...you're more than just a loser" - "yeah, cause he's a huge loser!" taesan butts in, "dude, can't you see the kid's stressing? leave him alone!" leehan says, striking the menacing one upside his head. "don't listen to him, broski...i mean, yn did say yes to your prom-posal, didn't she? that's something!" woonhak nods along to the word's of his older friends, beginning to gain back the confidence he had lost just a moment ago.

"yeah! and besides, the outfit isn't that big a deal...we'll just have to fix some things..." jaehyun says, "mhm, and we can help you with all of that. we are, after all, your beloved hyungs" riwoo smiles, pressing a hand onto the boy's back in reassurance. "now come on..." he continues, beginning to pull woonhak up from the couch.

"...if you're planning to confess your love to yn tonight, then we got some serious work to do!"

"operation: turn loser woonhak into gentlemanly woonhak so that he can win over his long time crush who's lowkey out of his league, is a go- ow! quit hitting me!"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"hm..." leehan squints, his pointer finger pressed against his lips. "try the red one again..." woonhak rolls his eyes, taking off the tie around his neck for what felt like the billionth time. "how about the blue-" - "hyung, seriously? i've tried the blue one on like- four times already!" leehan laughs at the boy's annoyance. "okay fine, at least try on the purple one, please?" the younger of the two obliges, throwing the last of the ties on. "oh, gross! red it is...use the red tie" woonhak almost throws a tantrum, "seriously?! all that work for you to pick the first one i put on? she better love this tie or i'm gonna crash out" leehan smiles with his eyes, leaning over to pinch the other's cheeks.

"beauty takes time, baby"

"bro, stay still!" sungho exclaims, holding their maknae down by his shoulders. "i'm trying to but you plus a giant curling iron is kind of freaking me out!" the older one scoffs, "don't be such a baby, it's not like i'm gonna burn you! and how do you expect me to fix this mop on your head if you keep moving, huh?" woonhak sighs, giving up on fighting back; he wasn't going to win anyways.

"now hand me the hairspray..."

"and five, six, seven, eight and- no, no, no!" riwoo shakes his head and slaps a hand onto his forehead. "what? what am i doing wrong? those are literally the right moves!" poor woonhak, his head's just moments away from exploding. "it's the beat, dude! you need to stay on beat! how do you expect to win this girl over if you can't dance on beat? start over from the top" riwoo claps his hands, bending down to rewind the song on his phone.

"and five, six, seven, eight..."

"uh...hey...um-" - "stop, stop, stop!" taesan shoves a palm in front of woonhak's face. "you really like this girl and you're about to ask her to be your girlfriend. this is something you've been waiting for your whole life and you start with...uh...hey?" the other boys laugh at his spot-on impression of their youngest, "c'mon woonhak, you know you can do better than that! here, i'll show you an example" jaehyun chimes in, asking sungho to stand in front of him. "pretend sungho is the girl, okay?" woonhak nods, watching closely like it were lesson worth half his semester grade.

"first, you want to get her alone, somewhere nice so that it's just the two of you. hey sungho, follow me..." jae begins, reaching a hand out for sungho to take. "then, you want to give her something that shows you care, say...a rose-" the guy is interrupted, "she prefers tulips though" woonhak states, making the others smile. "fine, then give her a tulip..." jaehyun continues, picking up a pen from the coffee table to use as a prop. "here, this is for you..." he says, handing the "flower" over to sungho who gasps comically, sending the group of guys into a fit of laughter.

"guys, shut up, this last part is the most important. you gotta remember this, woonhak"

the maknae nods, beginning to take mental notes. "you have to speak from your heart" woonhak's eyebrows furrow in confusion, "what do you mean?" leehan pats his back from beside him, "he means this is the point where you have to confess to her!" jaehyun nods, "yup! and we mean really confess. tell her how you feel, why you feel that way, really sell it to her" taesan butts in again, "you gotta show her that being with you is worthwhile" sungho agrees, "vulnerability helps! ask her to give you a chance, tell her how much she means to you" riwoo joins in finally, "and then, when she says yes, kiss her under the moonlight- for a bit of romance, of course"

woonhak sighs, taking all the information in. "if she says yes..." the older boys watched as doubt took over his complexion. "hey, don't say that!" jaehyun says, clicking his tongue. "yeah, bro...i know i keep calling you a loser and all, but that's just part of your charm- i mean, you're a nice guy, woonhak. and once you add our advice to the mix, she'll be yours in no time!" taesan's words are sincere, though his stoic expression said otherwise but that's just how he looks.

"if you say so..." the boy trails off, breathing deeply as he began to stand up again. "i have to go pick her up now...wish me luck, please" his hyungs shoot him big smiles, almost tearing up (jaehyun fully cried) at the sight of their youngest all grown up and ready to take on his first prom. making sure his tie was on straight and fixing the loose strands of his hair, they finally send him out the door, watching as he gets into the car and begins to drive away.

"goodluck, woonbaby! we love you!"

"fighting! go get her!"

"make hyung proud, woonhak!"

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'this is it woonhak...it's time to face her...and her parents...shit i completely forgot about her parents...fuck...well, don't just stand there, woonhak! ring the doorbell!'

ding dong!

the boy could hear a quiet rustling noise coming from behind the door. he waited patiently for an answer, fixing his posture and checking his reflection in the window in the meantime. he closes his eyes and takes a couple more deep breaths before the creak of an opening door brings him back to reality.

a man, who was the spitting image of his crush, stood before him, yn's dad. woonhak clears his throat before bowing slightly, "hello sir, my name is kim woonhak and i'm here to pick your daughter up for prom" the lack of answer freaks the boy out as he reaches a trembling hand out for the man to shake. "s...sir?" he squeaks out, voice raising by a couple octaves.

"honey, who is it at the door?" a sweet female voice breaks the awkward - and fearful - silence. "is that yn's date?" she asks before emerging from behind the man at the door. if woonhak thought yn's dad was the spitting image of her, well then her mom must've been her twin! "oh- uh, hello mrs ln, i'm woonhak! your daughter's date...i'm here to pick her up!" the boy stutters a bit but manages to finish his sentence. the tension in his body slowly began to exit out when the woman laughs happily, grabbing his shaking hand and inviting him right into their home.

"sorry about my husband, sweetie, he's just a bit of a hard-head and he just isn't quite set on the idea of his baby princess already going to her first prom! sorry if he gave you a hard time" mrs ln was kind, she spoke in a way that made the air-conditioned room start to get warm. "oh, not at all...you have a lovely home, by the way" woonhak started to feel comfortable, gratefully taking the cup of tea he was offered. "well aren't you just the sweetest, yn's still getting ready- you know how us girls are! i'm just gonna pop in up there and let her know you're waiting, okay?" the boy smiles as he nods, "thank you"

the next ten or so minutes felt like hours as the boy awkwardly tried to make small conversation with his date's dad in the living room. "so...uh...do you like baseball...sir?" he stutters as he makes eye contact with the framed baseball jersey that hung on one of the walls. mr ln nods, "yup, i dabble. do you?" his monotonous tone paired with his expression-less face made poor woonhak's heart beat out of his chest. "yeah...yeah i love baseball, used to be my biggest dream to be a baseball player" the man laughs, scaring the boy a bit, but he tries to play it cool. "a scrawny kid like you? baseball? right..." he wasn't gonna lie, that did hurt his ego a little, and if it weren't for the fact that he was the father of the girl he loved so much, kim woonhak would've lost it right then and there.

the sound of footsteps emerging from up the stairs interrupted the two guys from their conversation - if you can even call it that. "and now i present to you..." mrs ln begins, standing at the top of the steps. "princess yn!" she announced, a familiar giggle following as a figure appeared beside her. "mom! i told you to stop calling me that!"

there she was. woonhak's mouth fell agape as he got up from his seat, almost stumbling from the sight before him. she had on the prettiest dress, embellished with all kinds of tiny silver jewels. it hugged her body just right, her hair flowing off of her head so effortlessly, as if she just woke up like this. yn ln looked perfect, just...

"beautiful"

"you don't look too bad yourself" her honey-like voice shakes the boy out of his thoughts. "huh? oh! um, hey" the girl giggles, her nose scrunching in the process. "i like your dress" woonhak smiles, feeling nervous from the sudden close proximity; when did she get from the top of the stairs to standing right in front of him? "thanks, i like your tie- the red looks good with the suit" yn's compliment makes him blush and he makes a mental note to thank leehan later.

"oh, aren't you two just adorable? come here, let me get some pictures for facebook!" mrs ln beckons, tilting her head to direct the pair over to one side of the room. "okay...one more...and...done! aw, aren't they just lovely? right, honey?" mr ln grunts, "i guess so..." another tense silence submerges the space. yn clears her throat, "well! we'd love to stay and chat but i think woonhak and i should get going now!" her date nods, "mhm! yup! it was so nice meeting you guys, thank you for the tea and for letting me take your daughter to prom- it really means a lot" the man and woman nod along to the boy's words, "of course, sweetie. you two stay safe!" mrs ln speaks as she follows them out the door.

"we will! love you guys, i'll see you later! and dad? please stop staring at him like a psycho, thank you"

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"you good?" woonhak asks, watching as yn strapped her seatbelt on. she smiles sweetly, "mhm, are you? sorry my dad's such a weirdo" he laughs, finally starting to feel less nervous. "he called me a scrawny kid...what does that even mean?" she giggled, "well, that's dad for you...don't let it get to your head, hakie..." her usual nickname for him made his heart skip a few beats, "and if it's any consolation, i think you're perfect!...now let's go, i'm itching to get on the dance floor" woonhak tries to ignore the compliment, not wanting it to distract him from driving safely to their prom venue - aka their high-school gymnasium.

and off they went.

the drive didn't take much time at all, being that the ln household was only eight minutes away from the school. upon arriving, woonhak parks his car amongst the others in the lot. he gets out first, scrambling to make it to the passenger's side in time to open up the door for yn and help her down.

she giggles, beginning to step out of the vehicle as he takes her hand in his softly. "thank you. when did you get so gentlemanly?" the boy sticks his chest out with pride, "i kinda took a gentleman crash course before picking you up, honestly" yn laughs, "just for me?" woonhak wiggles his eyebrows before dramatically bowing, "all for you, princess yn" the girl playfully pushes him to the side, "you meeting my parents might've been the worst thing ever!" the boy rolls his eyes, "at least we got that out of the way, right?" she nods, "c'mon! party time!"

the prom was just like what they've always dreamed of. drunk on non-alcoholic beverages, people sweating their make-up off on the dance floor, and of course, sharing stupid smiles with their friends and their dates. as the time passed by the music went from ballads to clean versions of the latest pop releases, and the buffet of food prepared on every corner of the gym had slowly decreased. students were having the time of their lives, some had left to make-out in the hallways, other's had decided to leave the campus completely.

woonhak watches from beside the bowl of fruit punch as his date stuffed her face with all sorts of cheeses from the charcuterie board. how'd she look so cute just doing whatever? that can't be legal. somewhere amidst his staring, the boy felt a presence on his shoulders - or rather, he felt five very familiar presences on his shoulders.

"pssttt, woonhak!" the imaginary voice, that sounded eerily similar to myung jaehyun, calls. the boy's face contorts in confusion. huh? he thought before another voice spoke. "it's time! remember what we taught you!" that one sounded an awful lot like riwoo. "go shoot your shot, woohak! fighting!" a third voice that was a mix of leehan's and taesan's finished. before he could even gather any of his thoughts, an invisible force pushes him straight towards yn.

"hakie! you have to try this...it's gouda with herbs! i fucking love cheese...hey...you okay?" the last of her sentence came off worried, her eyebrows tilted upwards. "yeah...um...i think i just need some air, come with me to the football field?" the girl agrees without hesitating, grabbing one last slice of the creamy dairy concoction before beginning to walk towards the back exit of the gym. woonhak follows close behind, sneakily snatching one of the tulips from the vase at the very end of the buffet table.

step 1: get her alone...done.

"wow...the sun's setting already!" yn twirls around happily as they entered the empty field, the cool air hitting their skin and causing goosebumps to emerge. woonhak smiled, he always found himself smiling at her. "hey..." she called, starting to walk towards the boy. "you sure you okay?" he shakes his head but quickly switches to nodding, very rapidly. "mhm! yeah, i'm fine...uh...here!" he suddenly exclaims, pulling the stolen flower out from behind his back. she jumps in shock at the sudden gesture but giggles sweetly as she retrieves the single tulip.

"did you steal this from the buffet?" yn questions, sticking an eyebrow up jokingly. "um...no...?" woonhak lies, though the dumb grin on his face said otherwise. "well, thanks anyways...tulips are my favourite" she stares at the pink plant lovingly, finding it fascinating the way the setting sun began to illuminate against it's petals. "i know they are" they share another smile, and he watches as she tucks the flower into a loop on her dress, right by her hip.

step 2: a gift to show you care...done.

the first two steps to his hyungs' three step guide had been successful. the boy felt a little more confident now, just one last step left...the hardest of them all, it's time to confess.

"hey, hakie" - "hey, yn" the pair speak in unison, both abruptly pausing. "you first" they jinx again, laughing softly. "you first, hakie" yn says, to which woonhak nods. the boy takes a deep breath before taking one step closer to her, "yn..." he trails off, grabbing both her hands in his. his chest in pounding, he swears she could feel his heartbeat through his wrists. "what is it?" she asks, a tone of genuine worry laced within her words.

'speak from your heart...tell her how you really feel'

"listen yn, i like you. i like you a lot! you make me really happy and you make me laugh and sometimes you make me really really nervous" the girl's mouth opens to speak but he doesn't let her, not yet. "i think i've honestly liked you for like ever! i mean how could i not? you're awesome- er- i mean, you're amazing and cool and just ah! you're perfect and- wait, wait, let me finish first and then you can react" she giggles at the obvious excitement underlining his nerves, nodding and allowing him to speak. "and i know that i can be a huge loser sometimes, and totally un-cool, and i can't even be twenty percent sure that you like me in any way but..."

woonhak pauses to think - and to catch his breath.

'show her that being with you is worthwhile'

"yn, if you gave me a chance, i swear i will be the nicest guy you'll ever know - i mean, i'll treat you right and i'll cherish you with my whole heart literally for the rest of my life. yn, i...i love you and...i might melt and scream and cry if you ever felt even a smidgen this way for me..." the boy straightens his back up as he breathes in once more, "yn ln...would you...maybe, possibly...would you like to be my girlfriend?"

he didn't know when or how, but somewhere amidst his monologue-like confession his eyes had started to well up in tears, a single droplet slipping down his cheek. "you...you can react now, yn" the girl only smiles, letting go of one of his hands to graze her own against his face, wiping away that single tear.

"oh, hakie..." she prolongs, focusing on the way his lips quivered in hope and in slight fear. "first of all, you don't need to swear on anything! i know for a fact that you're the nicest guy in the whole world..." the expression on his face softens as her hand moves back to holding his. "you know, it would've saved you a lot of time if you had skipped the whole speech and just asked me straight-forward" he's confused now, his mind is all over the place and he can't seem to understand what's going on. "why...why's that?" he musters under his breath; his breath that only got heavier. "cause..."

"i'd love to be your girlfriend, loser"

the boy's eyes widened, was he hearing her right? was this really happening? finding the look on his face ever so amusing, yn breaks into a fit of loud and happy laughter. it felt as though a mass production of fireworks had just erupted around them and the empty field held the same warmth as the gymnasium that swarmed with people. the pair are frozen, she doesn't know what to do next and he's searching his brain for an answer.

'when she says yes, kiss her under the moonlight'

with his heart full and beating straight out of it's socket, woonhak uses light force to pull yn closer, pressing a passionate kiss on her lips. it takes a second for her to register the gesture, just a second before she had completely melted into the moment. the couple smiled into the kiss, letting out bashful giggles as they held each other tight - youthful and happy right under the moonlight.

"hey, what were you gonna say before? like- before you told me to talk first?" the boy spoke, their lips still in contact. "mmm...i don't know, it was probably not important, whatever...kiss me" he laughs, ridding of any extra space between them.

step 3: tell her how you really feel...done...and kiss her under the moonlight...ongoing.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"and then the gym teacher caught us kissing on the field and told us not to so we decided to get in the car and end the night there and...yeah! that's it"

the five older boys cheered as their maknae recalled the fresh sequence of events. "well done, woonhak! i knew you had it in you" sungho says, patting the boy on his shoulder. "yeah, me too...i never doubted you for a second!" taesan followed, causing everyone to roll their eyes and sigh.

kim woonhak giggled almost manically, screaming as he flopped onto his back on the carpeted floor. "wah! i can't believe i'm officially dating the yn ln...pinch me, i must be dreaming!" - "don't actually pinch him, taesan"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

WAAAAA first loooooooongggg fic in a while!!! cant believe i actually finished this. i wrote for 4 hours straight lololol been thinking of this since MAMA so!!!!! hope u guys enjoyed it, ill try to write more soon. love, kona.

perm taglist:

@en-dream @candycane-lemonade

[ashwhowrites]

hi! can i request a fic with eddie where he meets reader on a random night or on a date app and they really get along and all but what eddie doesnt know is that reader is actually a single mom and when eddie finds out hes very surprised and hes like "i dont want to get involved" and that really hurts reader because she really likes him but senses knock him up and he realizes that he really likes her and it was immature of him and he wants to become a part of her life and her child ?? hurt/comfort if its possible please! thank you and sorry for rambling 😊

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Involved

Y/N blew away the small pieces of hair that fell out of her ponytail. She could feel the sweat on her hairline as she moved quickly through the bar. Her feet hurt and she was exhausted, she hated working two jobs but she was a single mom with a six-year-old and needed the money.

She threw the dirty dishes in the sink, a shadow casting over her making her look up. She saw one of the hottest guys she had ever seen. He had long dark curly hair, a silver chain on his neck, and a white t-shirt that was thin enough to see dark ink on his skin. She tried to cough up spit to clear her dry throat.

"Welcome, what can I make for you?"

"Best beer you got," he said, she shivered at the deepness of his voice. She told herself to get it together as she made him his drink.

Eddie spent as much time looking at her as she did him. Both sneaking glances throughout the whole night until he paid off his tab. She had never seen him before so she figured she wouldn't see him again.

But the next night there he was. And the next and the next.

Eddie didn't have plans to come to the bar again but he felt this pull towards her. He was memorized when he watched her work. Her swift movements and how amazing she smelled in a dirty bar. She was gorgeous and he was sure he was not the only one who noticed.

She seemed young but not too young, and not too old. He figured she was around his age and hoped he was right.

After a few times he showed up they began to talk...and flirt. He couldn't help himself, he wanted to nail down his moves before some other lowlife beat him to it.

After countless small talk and interactions, he asked her out on a date. Something both of them were patiently waiting for.

~~~

Y/N calmed her nerves with a sip of wine as she waited at the restaurant. She hadn't been on a date since before her daughter was born. And even then it was with her ex. She felt terrified to start over but she refused to turn Eddie down.

"You sure stand out in a crowd," Eddie said as he pulled out his chair and sat down. "Somehow get more beautiful every time I see you"

She smiled and sipped on her wine as she felt her body burn. "Thank you." She patted herself on the back for picking the red dress because his eyes stayed on it all night.

The date went well. No awkward silence and it seemed like the conversation flowed. She wanted to tell him about her daughter but every time she tried, she panicked and said something else. Maybe it didn't have to be a first date thing.

As he landed a few bills on the table, he grabbed her hand. Both their bodies shivering as they met the cold air.

"Are you new in town? I've never seen you before the bar of course." She asked. She worked at that bar for years and never saw him.

"Not really. I only went to this one bar, but it closed down. I was searching for a new favorite spot" he shrugged. He kept his hand in hers as he walked towards his van.

"Seem like it could be a favorite?" she asked, leaning against the cold van.

"Oh, it is definitely my favorite" he smirked, he leaned against his van, mirroring her. He let go of her hand to hold her hip, drawing her body closer to his.

"Why's that?" she asked, her eyes looking down at his lips before looking back into his brown eyes

"It has you" he flirted, licking his lips when he caught her looking twice

"I am the best bartender there" she joked, enjoying the warmth as her body was pressed against his. His deep laugh rumbled through his chest and she could feel it against hers. He was so close it made her head spin.

"And by far the most attractive" he whispered. His eyes looked deep into hers. She felt her heart race as he tilted his head down.

"Are you going to kiss me or not?" She asked, growing impatient as they stared at each other's lips with desperation.

He didn't say anything, just giving her a smirk that made her a puddle at his feet. She gasped as she swiftly pushed her against the van and stood between her legs. Her back pressed against the van, the coldness calming down her hot skin. His left hand slowly moved up her dress, starting at her thigh and up to her cheek. His right hand stayed on her hip as he leaned in.

She closed her eyes as his lips pressed against hers. She moaned at the taste of him, her hands around his neck as she pulled him closer. He happily deepened the kiss as his tongue slipped into her mouth, he moved his hands down to her ass and squeezed. He swallowed her moan as she moved her hands into his hair.

Their steamy makeout came to an end when they needed air. They stared at each other, panting. No words to describe how perfect their kiss felt.

~~~

It had been a week since their first date and Eddie stopped by at the bar every day. He'd sit and talk to her all night long. He'd wait until she was done, sitting with her as she ate her dinner, and walked her to her car. He loved kissing her goodnight, and the activities that happened in the back of his van.

He called all the time, leaving her squealing into her pillows before she fell asleep.

Everything was perfect. Their second date was better than the last. Two weeks flew by and she was falling hard for him. And she could tell he was falling for her too.

Which is why she knew she needed to come clean before they went too far. She was nervous to tell him but had a lot of hope that it wouldn't matter.

~~~

Y/N smoothed down her black skirt as she looked at herself in the mirror. She doesn't remember which date number this was and she hoped it wasn't the last.

She slipped on a leather jacket and walked out of her room. She said goodbye to her daughter and the babysitter. She got in her car and drove over to Eddie's place.

She had been there a few times, most of them leading to his bedroom. She never spent the night but he never quite asked why. Maybe if he did, it would have made it easier to confess she had a child.

Eddie opened his front door for her and she smelled the amazing food he was preparing. She kissed his lips as he welcomed her in. A smile on his face as he kept pecking her lips for more. She laughed as she pushed him away to fully make it inside his small apartment.

"Smells wonderful" she complimented, she followed him into the kitchen. He had a towel tossed over his shoulder as he checked on the oven.

"Took me years to learn how to cook. Figured it might come in handy for a night like tonight" he winked.

Once dinner was finished, they sat at his dining table. They ate and talked. Y/N grew more nervous as each second passed.

"You alright? You seem a little distracted tonight." Eddie asked, reaching over to hold her hand. Their finished plates were pushed to the other side of the table.

"I have something to tell you, and I want you to know I wanted to tell you right away but everything has been so perfect and I didn't want to mess it up." She confessed, squeezing his hand.

"You can tell me. You won't mess anything up." He said, but she knew it was a 50/50 shot.

She took a deep breath

"I work as a bartender at my second job, and I never stay the night because I have a daughter. The father is not in the picture, I'm doing it alone with the help of a neighbor. She's six." Y/N said it all in one breath. Looked at Eddie as the words processed through his head.

She felt her heart drop in her stomach when he released his hand from hers. Moved it to rub his chin.

"So uh, you have a daughter? And you didn't tell me until a month after seeing each other? Practically every single day?" He asked, slightly annoyed and she completely understood why.

"I know! I wanted to tell you right away but I was scared. I just didn't want anything to change." She explained, but everything already changed.

"I'm not asking you to be her father or even to meet her right now. I just wanted to be honest about what a relationship together would include."

"I just don't think I want to be involved with a kid." Eddie said honestly.

"You don't have to right now though. I wouldn't feel comfortable meeting you two until we were together for like a year. Do you think a year will give you enough time?" She asked. She bit her lip as she shook her leg anxiously.

"I'm sorry, but no. I want a relationship with you, but a kid is too serious for me at the moment and I can't say if that'll change in a year."

She wanted to be mad, but she couldn't. It was fully his choice and she had to accept that.

"I respect that." She choked out, quickly wiping a stray tear. "I think I should go now."

"Yeah that might be best" Eddie sighed, standing up as she got up from her chair. "I'm really sorry about this." He added as she made it to his door.

"Yeah, me too. But I understand. Bye, Eddie." She said sadly, her wet eyes were the last thing he saw before his door closed.

She sobbed as she made it to her car. She wanted more than anything for him to want to make it work. But her daughter would always come first. She lost one relationship because of her daughter, she could handle losing another.

Eddie watched as she pulled out of the parking lot. A twitch in his stomach as her lights disappeared down the road.

He cleaned up their dinner, washing his dishes in silence. He kept looking back at the door, half hoping she'd come back but he knew that wouldn't happen.

He needed to accept that and move on.

~~~

Just as Y/N thought, Eddie was a ghost. She hasn't seen him since the night they broke it off. He hasn't called or been to the bar. She figured he'd disappear, and she was disappointed that she was right.

But she was a mother and needed to bust her ass. She worked through her bartending shifts as if she wasn't breaking down on the inside. Faking a smile as the older men praised her for her beauty. She acted as if nothing was wrong because that's what a woman does.

~

It had been a long month for Eddie. He drove up to that bar every day but was too chicken to get out. He wanted to see her, just a small glimpse. But he knew if he did, he'd go running in and begging for her to take him back.

But he still didn't know if he could commit to becoming a father figure within a few years.

So with fear in his heart, he'd drive away.

There were some nights when he was weak. When he was drunk at home, too scared to go to bars knowing where he'd end up. He'd call her, just to hear the sound of her voice as she said hello. He never said anything, just breathing into the phone.

He found himself doing it almost every night. At first, she'd hang up after a few seconds. Then she kept asking if someone was there. Then she answered but waited longer. He thinks she slowly caught on to who it was because she didn't hang up for hours. Just two people listened to the sound of each other breathing as they fell asleep. Once he'd wake up she was gone.

And he realized he needed way more than just hearing her breathe into the phone. He needed to wake up with her. He needed her in his arms, not over the phone.

The longer he waited, the closer she was to moving on.

He woke up, the sun burning his eyes. He rolled over hands reaching for the phone. He sighed once he saw the call disconnected.

But something was different that morning. He woke up with a purpose. The ache in his chest made a home, all because he allowed it in. He was the one who caused himself all this pain. And he wanted it to end. If living away from her was going to feel this painful, it would never be worth it.

So he redialed

"...

...

...

Hello?"

"Hey, it's me"

She almost gasped as she heard his voice travel through the line. His voice raised her heartbeat. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

"I wante-"

His voice cut out as she hung up. Slamming the phone on the wall and running.

Eddie hung his head as he heard the long beep.

"FUCK" he screamed, tears down his face as he mindlessly threw the phone.

~~

He didn't give up though. The next night he left his apartment, driving to the bar as he always did. But this time he got out. He tugged on the sleeves of his flannel as he pulled open the bar door.

The harsh smell of liquor and sex smacked his face. But that sweet perfume cut through it, filling Eddie's senses. Then his eyes caught her.

She was bent over scrubbing a table. Eddie moved forward but his eyes saw a flesh of skin slam down on her ass. Eddie felt himself lose control. It was like his body moved on its own as he screamed at the guy. Punches followed and all he could hear was screaming.

Then he was picked up by security and tossed out the door.

He stood up and dusted off his flannel. The bar doors opened and she raced out in a flash.

He had three seconds to take in how incredible she looked before her hand connected with his cheek. His head was slapped to the side and he moaned out in pain.

"I don't need you to be some hero. I can handle myself!" She said through clenched teeth

She turned around, aiming to head back inside when he spoke,

"I was just helping, goddamn."

She stopped in her tracks, turning around as she set fire to his body. She wanted to swing at him again but his arm held her arm.

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help! I didn't need my mom, I didn't need my ex, and I sure as hell don't need you." She shoved his hands off of her.

"You might not need me, but baby I need you." He said, his eyes searching hers. "I'm so sorry for giving up on us. I was an idiot to let you leave, to not fight for you. I'll admit I'm the biggest prick alive for running away because you had a daughter. I can't imagine how that made you feel-"

"Like something I've felt before with her father," she snapped

Eddie whimpered at the blow. Licking his salty lips tears worked down his face.

"And that is the last thing I want to do again. I was scared but I can't let that stop me. I want you and everyone who comes with you."

Y/N turned around, not wanting to show her emotions as she tried to shake off his words. She wanted to stay strong and fight him off. But then he wrapped his arms around her, his chest against her back as he squeezed her.

"Please give me one more chance," he said into her skin as he kissed her shoulder.

She sighed and turned around in his arms. His soft lips crashed on hers, giving her no time to think as she kissed back. She melted into the familiarity of him. But then she pushed him away.

"I'm begging, baby. Please let me fix this." His lips kissed her nose and chin.

"Okay," she whispered. His shocked eyes looked at her as she nodded. A huge smile took over his face as she landed a thankful kiss on her lips.

"She's six and her favorite color is red..."

What could be so bad about having a family with her?

Tags!

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